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Darkyn's Mate

#3, Rhyn Eternal

By Lizzy Ford

http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

Cover design by PhatPuppy Creations

http://www.PhatPuppyArt.com/

Smashwords EDITION

Darkyn's Mate copyright ©2013 by Lizzy Ford

http://www.GuerrillaWordfare.com/

Cover design copyright © 2013 by PhatPuppy Creations

http://www.PhatPuppyArt.com/

Typography Copyright © by Regina, Mae I Design

http://www.MaeIDesign.com/

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

## Prologue

From "Gabriel's Hope"

Suddenly, Past-Death's words about how Deidre became Gabriel's mate clicked. Would the reverse also work? If Past-Death was dead again, was Deidre next in line to be Gabriel's mate?

Deidre faced the door, mind working quickly.

"Wait!" she called. "Your soul. If you can't do what I did in a week, I get your soul."

"Fuck off, human."

"Who's the coward now?" Deidre demanded. "You're incapable of loving him the way he deserves, and you know it."

Past-Death froze at the door. Her face was red, her eyes glittering. "You will wager your soul as well?"

"Yep," Deidre said. "Deal?" She held out her hand and drew near. "One week. Your soul and mine on the table."

Past-Death shook her hand. Cold energy shot through Deidre, and she flinched. The door opened, and they both looked towards it.

"Which one of you is mine?" Darkyn's growl made her blood run cold.

"As I promised. My payment for your services." Past-Death snatched Deidre's arm and yanked her to the side for him to see the tattoo.

The demon lord smiled. Past-Death pushed Deidre towards him.

Deidre dug in her heels before she reached him. The heat of her anger vanished, replaced by fear.

"Deal settled," Darkyn said, stepping aside. "With regards to our arrangement about reviving you..."

"We'll talk later," Past-Death said and brushed by him.

Darkyn watched her go. Deidre saw the look on his face, the same one Past-Death gave her when admiring the product she created. His attention returned to Deidre. His fangs were lengthening. She backed away, unable to fathom the idea of being trapped with him in Hell for eternity.

"Rules," he reminded her and entered the chamber. He closed the door behind him.

"No running. No fighting."

You must obey him, no matter how much you do not wish to. Your life is not the only one dependent upon this.

She stopped in place as Fate's words returned her. Unable to quell the panic flying through her, she wasn't willing to test the waters to discover if demons were restricted from harming their mates like Immortals. In a week, when Past-Death lost her end of the bet, Deidre would be free.

She just had to survive.

Deidre closed her eyes as Darkyn's arm snaked out to grab her neck. He dragged her against him. Breathing ragged, she tilted her head in submission.

One week.

"Welcome to your new home, love," the Dark One said a moment before his teeth sank into her neck.

For Gabriel.

## Day One

## Chapter One

In Hell, human-Deidre sat next to the hearth hours after she made the deal with the goddess who stranded her. She hadn't seen her new mate, Darkyn – the Dark One – since he drank his fill of her hours before and left. Her lightheadedness was gone and she was grateful his bloodsucking was pain free. Not by his choice, which was clear. If she hadn't bartered for a painless existence, she'd be trying to kill herself to get away from him.

If, for some reason, she was stuck here forever, at least he wasn't going to hurt her, as long as she followed his rules.

No running. No fighting.

Either of them was too much of a turn on to a demon that reveled in causing pain. The idea made her panic. How long would it take Gabriel to find her and rescue her?

Would he be able to, if he thought the goddess Past-Death was his mate?

Her stomach growled. A look around her bedchamber with its black, stone walls, ceiling and floor revealed nothing remotely edible. The large bed was set in a similar stone bed frame and covered with dark coverings. The room was allegedly the most comfortable Hell had to offer. She wasn't able to tell what time it was in Hell. There were no clocks and she had no cell phone. Her room was made of black stone and quiet with no sounds except the crackle of fire.

It wasn't bad. She had no intention of spending eternity there, though.

She stood, hungry. Made of material softer than silk, the black dress she wore pooled at the top of her feet. Her back was bare to display the name of Darkyn amid the Immortals' geometric writing that marked her as an Immortal mate.

She put her hair down to hide the mark, horrified by the idea of belonging to the devil.

Deidre's hand went to her neck, where Darkyn had placed a slender collar. If his name scrawled across her shoulders didn't mark her as his, the collar did. She didn't think any demon in Hell was going to mess with the Dark One's mate. At least, she hoped not.

She stood in front of the door nervously for a long moment, not certain it would open.

It did.

There were no longer demon guards outside her door, maybe because Darkyn knew she couldn't leave. If her bond to him was like hers to Gabriel, he'd be able to find her no matter what.

She couldn't think about such things without wanting to break down and weep. First things first: she needed food to survive. Bracing herself, she stepped into the hallway. No one attacked her or told her to stop. She also had no idea where to go.

Deidre closed the door behind her and walked down the hallway. The dress moved with her like a second skin, draping her curves and swishing silently around her legs. She rubbed her mouth. It was dry and her gums irritated. She could use some water, too.

She walked for ten minutes, carefully remembering where she went, so she was able to find her way back. The first demons that crossed her path made her freeze in place. They didn't notice her, and she released her breath.

Deidre continued through the halls lined with torches bearing black flames. She reached a stairwell and descended to a floor with wider, taller corridors, as if she'd gone from the wing with private chambers to a more public area. There were more demons on this level, a couple of which eyed her before moving on, leaving her a bit more confident she wasn't going to be eaten. The stone doors lining each side were all closed.

One of them yawned opened as her eyes fell to it.

With an anxious look around to make sure no one was watching, Deidre peeked into the open door, hoping it led to a McDonalds or some other place with food. What she saw puzzled her.

Hell had a library?

At the far end of the library was a creature that made her think twice about entering. White-gray fur covered a body with moth-eaten wings, a hideous face and yellowed fangs. It was hunched over a book large enough to cover half the black stone desk at which it sat. As she watched, the creature rose and hobbled from the desk to a nearby shelf. It wheezed, its body bent by time. The small book it hefted made its stooped posture almost double over. He staggered.

She had the sudden urge to assist him. Whatever creature it was, it had to be ancient. She hesitated then crossed the library.

"Do you want help?" she ventured timidly.

The ugly face turned towards her, and she slowed.

"What are you?" it asked in a voice as old as its leathery face.

Uncertain how to explain things, she turned and swept her pink-dyed hair from her back to show him the mating mark.

"Ah." It said then concentrated on holding onto the book.

Deidre reached him just as he dropped it. The tome was far heavier than she expected, made of something much different than cardboard and paper. The two of them toppled to the floor with the book.

"It only looks small," the creature said, peering at her. "The Dark One's never had a mate."

"Ever?" she asked. She stood and bent. The book was the size of a paperback she'd buy at an airport but had to weigh fifty pounds. With a grunt, Deidre lifted it and carried it to the table. She returned to the creature, which was climbing to its feet with difficulty. She took its arm and helped him up.

"Ever," it answered with a wheeze. "But... there has only been one other Dark One before Darkyn." Its breathing was labored, and it sighed when they reached its chair. "Was the oldest... deity remaining. Very powerful. Don't know...how Darkyn did it."

"Maybe he made a better deal," she suggested. "That is what he does, isn't it? Makes people horrible deals that screw them over for eternity?"

"This is true. Darkyn is smart. He doesn't make...mistakes."

She shivered, not wanting to imagine what Darkyn was capable of or how hard it might be to outmaneuver him to leave Hell. As ugly as the aged creature before her was, there was something about him that left her feeling safe for the first time since arriving to Hell.

"Do you have a name?" she asked.

"Do you?" It looked irritated at her question. "Of course demons have names."

"Sorry," she murmured. "I'm Deidre."

"A human mate and so soon after he's taken command." The ancient demon shook his head in disapproval. "You can call me Zamon. My real name is too hard for you to say."

"Nice to meet you, Zamon."

"There was a time... young girls ran when they saw me," he sounded annoyed then sighed. "That time is gone."

"If it helps, I'm scared." Deidre rubbed her upper lip again. Her gums were irritated, reminding her she hadn't eaten or drunk water in a while. "Do you want me to run away so you feel better?"

"No." Zamon growled. He pushed the small book around then opened it.

"What kind of library is this?" she asked with a glance around.

"I keep our histories, record bloodlines, manage the deals that come in. I will record you now," Zamon said.

She watched him turn a page and touch it. Strange writing appeared.

"You are recorded," he stated, reading the words. "The Oracle says you made your first deal as his mate. You learn fast." He nodded in approval. "Your deal holds the power of the Dark One to enforce the debt, since you are his."

"That doesn't sound good," she said. Her first deal was made more out of emotion than anything else. She'd challenged Gabriel's new mate to win him over in one week, or one of them lost their souls.

During the quiet time she'd had since then, Deidre began to think she'd made a bad bet. Gabriel and Past-Death had a relationship that spanned thousands of years. He'd chosen to stay with her that long, and she'd broken Immortal laws to take her place as his mate. Gabriel's intense hatred was born of intense love and pain, and he'd clearly never made up his mind about her in the time they were together.

In a week, Deidre would be dead or back with Gabriel. At least, this was what she hoped when she made the deal.

"It is dangerous. You should not make deals, until you learn how," Zamon said sternly. "A bad deal by a deity or its mate will ruin the universe."

"Okay," she said, startled by his calm statement. "I'll be careful. How do I learn?"

"Darkyn."

She frowned. Since he was the one she wanted to learn to outsmart, in case things broke bad, she doubted he'd teach her anything. Another thought crossed her mind as she stood in Hell's library.

"Can you... teach me things about the Immortals?" she asked. "I don't know anything about this place. I was a normal human two weeks ago."

"Maybe."

Her gaze returned to him. He was concentrating on turning pages and recording things she was unable to read.

"If Darkyn agrees," Zamon added. "The Dark One likes to control those close to him."

"You mean there's more than me?" she asked.

"His daughter."

"Seriously?" she exclaimed in disbelief. "That... he's a father?"

"Yes. She was hurt by an Immortal and is in a coma of sorts."

Deidre stopped herself from pursuing. There was no way she was going to learn more. She had no intention of staying here. Worse, she wasn't about to give the creature that tricked her into Hell and turned her Immortal an ounce of compassion.

Her stomach growled again.

"I was looking for somewhere I could get food," she said, reminded of her initial reason for wandering out of her room.

"Human food?"

"Um, yes."

"You will not want to go where the other human blood monkeys are. Darkyn would not approve. You will have to ask him."

Deidre sighed. In a place that operated on rigged deals where demons didn't seem to lose, she was certain anything she asked Darkyn for was going to cost her. That he'd beat out the original Dark One in a deal did not bode well for her.

She was trying hard to keep her fear away so she could figure out this new world. First the unfriendly Immortal society, now this nightmare. She'd promised herself she wasn't going to cry today. Half an hour after leaving her room, she was ready to break down.

"I'm going to lay down," she said.

"If you ask him, and he agrees, you can come back," Zamon said. "I will make time for you."

"Thank you."

Zamon nodded once, attention on the book. Deidre retreated into the hallway and started back towards the stairs. There was no way a creature like Darkyn, who valued control over everything, was going to let her talk to Zamon. Or eat. Or anything else.

Her eyes grew misty, and she rubbed them to keep tears from coming.

A door along the hallway ahead of her opened, startling her. Several demons exited, and the stone door closed silently. She ceased walking to wait for them to move down the hallway.

One caught sight of her and stopped. Unlike the others whose paths she'd crossed earlier, he didn't ignore her. This one nudged the demon beside him. Within seconds, all four of them were watching her like lions a wounded gazelle.

Darkyn warned her about running. Demons loved a challenge and a fight. She held her breath and stayed still, praying their interest was passing, and they'd move on.

They didn't. One smiled coldly, revealing its sharpened teeth, while another was the first to take a step towards her. Deidre clenched her fists as the four surrounded her in the middle of the hallway.

"Darkyn's blood monkey," one demon said, eyes on the band around her neck.

She hadn't thought to put her hair up; it blocked the name of her mate on her back. Or maybe they didn't care. Maybe he didn't care what happened to his mate.

"You know she'll taste good," another agreed. "He takes the best ones."

"He shouldn't let you off the blood monkey floor."

"Human?"

She nodded, heart racing. All four growled, hunger in their eyes.

"We'll give you a head start," the one in front of her said. He stepped out of her path. "I'll count to three."

Deidre shook her head.

"I'll count to five?"

"No," she replied. "He won't want you touching me." I hope.

Two of them laughed.

"You must be new."

"As long as we leave some for him. Blood monkeys are afforded no protections here, and he always shares with us. Whatever deal you lost, you'll suffer demon mercy for as long as we keep you alive."

Demon mercy. She had a feeling it was a horrible inside joke.

"I'll count to ten."

"I'm not running," she managed.

"Very well. This is less fun, but we still get to eat." The demon on one side snatched her arm and dragged her to him. His canines lengthened. She shoved at him unsuccessfully. He grinned at the attempt and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck.

Suddenly, he looked up, an uneasy expression crossing his features. Unable to see what he saw, Deidre prayed it was Darkyn, and the demon lord wasn't going to join them in passing her around for dinner. The sound of bodies hitting the stone floor behind her preceded Darkyn grabbing her by a few seconds. Deidre was yanked away from the demon holding her then released. Something jarred her, a flash of magic, one that made her more nauseous than what she saw happen next.

Darkyn snatched the demon that intended to make her its dinner. Deidre covered her face as the demon lord tore out the demon's throat with the same fangs that drank from her. Warm blood sprayed her. He gripped her arm, spun her until her back was to the remaining demon and pushed aside her hair.

"Spread the word," he snarled.

"Yes, my lord," the demon said in a hushed voice.

Deidre opened her eyes, distracted by the flow of cool magic from Darkyn into her. The remaining demon stumbled away. Her eyes dropped to what was left of the other three then flew up to the wall.

"Go," Darkyn ordered and released her.

Deidre didn't face him, afraid of what she'd see. She stepped over the dead demon between her and the stairwell without looking directly at the bloody mess. He'd told her not to run, but she found herself sprinting as soon as she was free of the dead demons. She fled up the stairs and down the hallways she'd memorized on her trip to the library.

She pushed her door open and slammed it shut. The demon blood on her face and arms disgusted her, just like the sight of the ease with which Darkyn shredded three demons with bodies like humans. But it was the thrum of magic lingering within her that disturbed her most.

It was the same thrum she felt with Gabriel, after she'd been claimed as his mate. Instead of Gabriel's warm energy, this one was Darkyn's cool energy, the soul-deep connection to a demon horrifying her. Would it be as strong as hers had been to Gabriel, where she'd ached for him to touch her, no matter how little sense it made?

No. It couldn't be. It was probably just Darkyn's magic, which he used to kill the demons. The alternative – that her own body was about to betray her to the devil – wasn't something she could handle. She felt overheated already, like she did when she was starting to get a cold.

Her gaze went to the bed. She'd never thought about how long Darkyn might wait to claim his mate by Immortal law in that way. Gabriel gave her space. Something told her Darkyn wasn't so considerate.

She wiped blood from her face and crossed to the small bathroom off the bedroom. She was no closer to food, but she could at least drink water out of the sink. Her mouth was dry.

Deidre grimaced at the sight of blood on her arms. She cleaned them off with hands that trembled from the confrontation. One question was answered: Darkyn was obligated to protect her in some way. He didn't do so out of the kindness of his heart. She cleaned up and left the bathroom, freezing.

Darkyn stood beside the hearth. Deidre swallowed hard. The sense she was falling ill grew stronger. Her skin was clammy, her forehead hot.

Her eyes were riveted to his frame in a way that warned her the bond she'd felt with Gabriel was now with this creature. Just under six feet tall, wide-shouldered and lean, Darkyn's youthful appearance was framed by short, dark hair. His eyes were blacker than Gabriel's, and his plain features deceptive. He didn't look like the threat she knew him to be.

"As my mate, you have the ability to draw off my power. Anything you ask of Hell, it will do," he said.

She wasn't expecting the information.

"Try to summon human food," he directed.

Not at all certain what he meant, she was hungry enough to test his claim. She willed a cheeseburger to appear. One did on the mantle above the fire. Deidre stared at it.

An odd sense entered her mind, dulling her senses. The cheeseburger was quickly forgotten. She shook her head. She almost felt as if she was... drugged? Her thoughts weren't entirely hers.

Darkyn extended his hand, drawing her from the thoughts before it was able to form fully. A small hourglass with black sand was in his palm. Sand had already begun to trickle into the bottom.

Deidre approached him with trepidation, stopping only close enough to reach out and take the hourglass.

"What is it?" she asked.

"When the sand runs out, your deal with Past-Death is finished."

Her eyes flew up in shock that he knew about her plan to get Gabriel back. She clenched the hourglass, waiting for him to explode.

"It was a clever deal," Darkyn said, approving.

She searched his face, uncertain how to take his response.

"I'm counting on you winning," he added. "The deal of my mate is sealed with my magic. It would not be seeming for the first deal of my mate to be a loss."

Fear fluttered through her. If Darkyn wanted her to win, what had she forgotten to add to the terms, so she won? Not Past-Death, not Darkyn. She wanted to win, so she could return to Gabriel. She was missing something.

Or he was already a step ahead. Zamon's conversation with her about Darkyn tricking his predecessor left her feeling like she walked into a trap when she made the deal with Past-Death.

"Come here."

The parting words of Fate's short visit the day before were all that kept her from flipping out. He'd said she had a chance not only to leave, but also to help save Gabriel's life, if she did exactly as Darkyn said.

Comforted by Fate's words, Deidre obeyed Darkyn's order with trepidation but no hesitation, assuming he meant to drink from her again. His nearness rattled her senses in a way that reminded her of how she felt around Gabriel. She swallowed hard, willing herself to remember that she was meant for Gabriel, even if it was Darkyn's name on her back.

The heaviness of her mind grew, until she wasn't certain why she should resist Darkyn in the first place. She was fighting a fever, one that made it hard for her to focus.

"No demon should ever harm you again. But, if an Immortal or human or deity corners you, and you aren't able to summon me, you need to know how to defend yourself," Darkyn started. His voice was the only thing that penetrated the haze coating her thoughts. "I'll show you how to kill the simplest way possible."

As he spoke, he peeled off his shirt to reveal a whip-like, muscular upper body coated by a thin layer of tan skin. Gabriel's body was built for power; Darkyn's was crafted for agility. He tossed his shirt on the chair behind her. He reclaimed the hourglass from her and set it on the mantle of the fireplace. When he took her hand, she almost cried.

She didn't want to be attracted to him, to feel the fire in her blood and the calm at her core when he touched her. She was too aware of the expanse of his chest, the heat of his closeness, the strange fog that grew thicker in her mind.

"I prefer to kill painfully," he said. "You probably do not. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"No. I've never even hit anyone."

He assessed her for a moment before continuing. "To kill a man, Immortal or demon fast, touch him here." He placed her hand at his neck.

Worse than seeing him was feeling him. His skin was smooth and warm, stretched taut over an athletic body. The Dark One felt like a man.

"Or here," he said and moved her hand to his chest. "Also, instant death."

She flattened her palm against the spot over his heart. His hand fell away, but hers remained. He had a heartbeat, one that reverberated through her as if it was her own. She wasn't able to reconcile the creature that turned her Immortal with the man before her.

"How?" she managed, needing to focus on something other than him. She ran her tongue over her gums then licked her lips. Despite the water, her mouth was dry and aching almost to the point of pain.

"You will them to die-dead. As my mate, you are able to use a limited amount of my power," he explained. "Try it. Will me dead."

Her attention shifted to the hand over his heart. He felt too real. She hadn't been able to break up with a boyfriend she was sick of for fear of hurting his feelings. She couldn't kill anyone.

She shook her head.

"You turn down a chance to kill the Dark One?"

She almost screamed at herself. He wasn't a man. He was the creature who trapped her in Hell. The thought of hurting him made the hand she pressed to his heart tremble. It wasn't anger she felt towards him but... hunger.

He smelled like a heady mix of male musk and something so faint and sweet, it made her want to press her face to the skin of his chest for a better smell. It was this compulsion that was like a drug weighing down her thoughts and making her hungry, like walking past a bakery first thing in the morning and trying not to look at what was in the window. His solid frame and heat were creeping into her senses, tugging at her resolve to resist.

He stood at ease before her, unconcerned with teaching her to kill then exposing himself to death at her hands. She couldn't bring herself to try, just like she couldn't remove her hand. His body was covered with faded scars that fascinated her, made her want to trace the lengths of them with her fingers then her tongue.

She'd experienced one night with an Immortal mate, and it was the most incredible night of her life. What would it be like to run her hands over Darkyn's lean frame the way she had Gabriel's, to feel his sharp teeth nip the delicate skin of her inner thighs and breasts? What pleasure would it bring if he drank from her while making love to her?

The erotic visions in her head made heat bloom in her lower belly and the fire of desire spread in her blood.

Deidre struggled against the sensations. She needed control of her own mind back, but the feverish fog was too thick.

Was what she felt for Gabriel nothing more than destiny and Immortal laws she knew nothing about? Was she destined to feel that for Darkyn, despite knowing what he was? Was there no choice in who she loved?

"No," she said out loud. "It can't be true."

"The laws from the time-before-time are absolute. They are the only ones," Darkyn's growl was unusually soft, almost a purr. "Past-Death fucked you over by letting you experience another mate first, when you were meant for me alone."

"No," she said. "This is...this is temporary." She dropped her hand and prayed the sensations within her left.

"How certain are you that what you feel is not real?"

Deidre met his gaze. He always knew how to read her. He had since they first crossed paths in the shadow world, when he offered her a choice: to cure the inoperable brain tumor killing her or to outright kill her before she declined, whichever outcome she preferred.

His gaze was penetrating and direct, stirring desire and fear within her. His features were masculine and strong. His nose bore the appearance of having been broken and set incorrectly more than once. Where Gabriel was always clean-shaven, Darkyn's strong jaw was shaded by a day or two of growth, lending danger to his appearance. His fangs were long, his eyes burning with more than hunger.

"Certain enough to make me a deal?" He touched her, his hand settling on her arm. Her breath caught. Cool energy worked its way into her. The simple, purposeful touch reinforced what she already knew. This was too similar to what she physically felt towards Gabriel to be anything other than the Immortal bond that branded Darkyn's name across her shoulders.

If she could only think straight for a few seconds! But her thoughts were falling under the control of something else.

"It's not fair," she whispered in a choked voice.

"It is the nature of the mating rite. You were never meant to belong to Gabriel. It took me too long to find Past-Death's soul. You almost waited too long to seek me out for a deal," he said. "A few more days, and even I wouldn't have been able to undo what Wynn did."

Had the deity Fate betrayed her like everyone else did? His advice had been to give in to Darkyn. Why try to help her, if he knew her destiny already?

"You're trying to trick me again," she said with resolution.

Darkyn cupped her cheek with one hand, the cool energy spreading as his thumb rubbed her cheek lightly. She shuddered at the contact. With his other hand, he removed the slender collar he had placed around her neck when she arrived. It dissipated.

The odd scent was closer, and she found herself breathing in deeply to try to capture it.

"Think about it. When you win your deal with Past-Death, there's no requirement for her to be rendered dead-dead at the end of the week. She may live an eternity, even if her soul comes to you eventually," Darkyn explained. "Gabriel cannot kill his own mate. It's against the Immortal laws. Which begs the question: What happens to you in one week?"

It was the same question she'd been asking herself. She didn't know the answer. She was terrified to find out. As he spoke, he continued the light stroke of one thumb and trailed a finger down the side of her face and traced her jaw. A line of cool fire remained. His touch went down the side of her neck, lingered on her collarbone then continued down her arm. Mesmerized by the sensations, her confusion and his direct gaze, she had to concentrate hard to register what he said.

"I, um, don't know," she murmured then shook her head. "I mean, this is temporary. It won't happen that way."

Darkyn's hand rested on her hip. He drew her against him. Deidre found herself leaning into his solid frame without resistance, entranced by the combination of his hot, hard body and cool fire on her swimming senses. The faint, sweet scent was close. Calling to her. Tugging at her ability to reason.

She nuzzled the hand cupping her cheek, and his thumb traced her lips. He lifted her hand to his heart. Instinctively, she flattened her palm against his chest once more to feel his heartbeat. It was the opposite of hers: calm, steady, strong.

"You don't sound certain enough to make a deal with me."

"I... I'm not sure why I should."

Touching him felt too natural. He was saturating her senses, seducing her somehow. She'd walked away from Gabriel, because he all-but-pushed her away. Darkyn's intentions were the opposite. He was using the truth to hammer down her resistance and his power to seduce her. She didn't expect it; she expected him to lie rather than point out the flaws in her desperate logic.

The fog around her thoughts grew heavier.

Waiting for him to snap or yell as he had when she arrived to Hell, she touched him timidly with her other hand to begin exploring the ridges of the scars on his chest.

"Touch me, taste me, scratch me, bite me," he whispered. "You can't be too rough for me."

"You can be for me," she said uneasily.

"I made you a deal. I know how to give pleasure without pain." By the distaste in his voice, he wasn't happy about it. "I won't hurt you, unless you ask me to."

Her hands ceased quivering as she ran them across his chest, over his firm shoulders and shapely arms before returning to his chest.

"Yes or no, love?" he purred. "Will you take your place in my bed as my mate?"

"You won't wait a week?" she asked.

"Only if you make me a deal."

She groaned. The same instincts that warned her against the last deal with him told her she'd never win any bet with the devil

"I'll give you the terms first this time. You can gauge the risk." He chuckled, a sinister sound. "You can fuck me here, now, the way mates should. Or, when you lose our deal, you can fuck the Dark One." He nuzzled her neck, and she tilted her head. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin without biting.

"Oh, god," she breathed. No part of her was willing to risk an encounter with Darkyn's other form. The world around her was dark around its edges. The fever had taken her out of her mind and into the alternate reality of a dream.

Except, when he touched her, it felt real again.

Unable to exit the dream fully, Deidre had no concept of how long they stood before the black flames of the fire.

"Choose."

"Yes," she whispered.

Rather than drink from her, he kissed her. Unlike Gabriel, who was gentle, teasing, Darkyn was demanding. Deidre felt herself breathless and consumed before the end of their first kiss, yielding to the intensity of his kiss and the firmness of his touch. He slid her dress free, his hands moving over her body possessively before he lifted her and carried her to the bed.

His body was solid and strong, the sensations of his skin against hers and his scents intoxicating her. She fell headfirst into his spell. True to his word, he was aggressive without hurting her. The nip of his fangs at her neck, inner thighs and breasts almost drove her over the edge while his hot tongue and hands explored every part of her.

She found herself nipping back at his chest and neck, something she'd never done before. The faint scent was there, pulling her. She was almost able to catch it before it fled her again. She tasted his skin, but it, too, wasn't enough. She wanted something as elusive as the scent. He eased into her body at first then made love to her hungrily, relentlessly pushing her deeper into the haze of pleasure and desire, until she arched beneath him, her body on the verge of shattering.

His fangs sank into her neck.

This time, there was a combination of distant pain and pleasure as he bit her that almost pierced the hazy dream. Deidre gripped him, craving something she didn't know how to ask him for. He drank deeply. The pain faded once more, and the experience became too dreamlike to be real.

He lifted his head, whispering,

"Bite me."

Lost in the heady sensations, Deidre wriggled and strained beneath him. He pinned her hands above her head to keep her still then whispered the command again. Desperately trapped by need unlike anything she'd ever known, she obeyed.

She bit his neck gently, not wanting to hurt him despite the strange dream and hunger in her body screaming to be filled.

"Harder." Darkyn moved in and out of her slowly, taking her closer to her climax.

Overwhelmed by the pleasure, Deidre bit him hard enough that she tasted him. Distant alarm was overwhelmed by need. This was what she smelled, what she ached to taste. The warm liquid in her mouth didn't taste like blood; it was virtually flavorless, tainted by a sweetness hard to quantify. The consuming need to drink from him swept through her mind, dulling the rest of the world.

"Drink." His voice was hoarse, his body straining. He growled from low in his chest.

Barely aware of anything outside of his commands, she obeyed. She pulled more of him into her, trying to identify the elusive flavor that left her intoxicated. He pulled away, and Deidre's eyes fluttered open. He whispered words she wasn't able to make out then bit her again, this time hard enough for the pain to piece her dreamlike stage.

Deidre's world shattered. She cried out, body convulsing under waves of pleasure intense enough to push her towards unconsciousness. He rested on top of her, breathing hard, as he pressed her into the bed. She panted. Their bodies were slick with sweat, and she lingered in the afterglow, lost in the heat and silk of his skin. The effect of his blood in her body was twofold: she felt it moving through her, changing her, while her mind once more was lulled into dreamy confusion. One thought emerged, fed by urgency that was quickly swallowed by cool magic.

She slept with the Dark One – drank his blood like a demon might. No part of it felt unnatural.

Or was it a nightmare only?

Bite me.

There was no way it was real. She'd never drink anyone's blood!

Deidre lay still for a moment before her eyes opened. She was alone in bed. Fevered and shivering, she felt too weak and hungry to focus well, but the shape of the black hourglass was unmistakable. It sat on the nightstand beside the bed. She reached for it. Her clumsy hand missed it, and she stared at the black sand as it fell towards the bottom of the glass.

It's too late. Like her other thoughts, this one escaped before she was able to understand its meaning. Whatever was working through her system was making her sick. The dream of Darkyn was no doubt a fever dream, one that caused distant alarm despite her illness.

Exhausted, her eyes fluttered closed. Deidre stopped fighting her body's cry for sleep and fell into a deep, dark slumber.

## Day Two

## Chapter Two

Deidre awoke alone and naked in bed. Her head hurt, and she felt grimy from the night sweats. The night was a blur in her mind, a combination of strange, fuzzy dreams about blood and tossing and turning from the horrible fever. She remembered touching Darkyn's chest and feeling aroused by the idea of his hands on her. From there, the night was a blurry fever dream. She'd dreamt of sleeping with Darkyn. Just the thought made her head hurt worse. The dread and guilt at the pit of her stomach were countered by the confusion of knowing that she'd fallen into the grip of the Immortal laws first with Gabriel then with Darkyn.

Was any of what she felt real?

Was Darkyn or Fate right about what was supposed to happen?

She was so hungry! Distraught, she rolled over to find the first surprise of the day on the block of stone that acted as a nightstand: an obsidian tray of fruit and fresh pastries. The scents made her stomach roar to life.

Hell had a magic library. Did it have a magic bakery, too?

Unable to dwell on how Hell knew what she liked for breakfast, she wolfed down the pastries and a banana before crossing to the bathroom for a shower. She scrubbed herself down, angry at the Immortals as a whole for tolerating a system that screwed over their mates and eliminated free will. Darkyn's assertions about her destiny being with him left her in a foul mood.

The Dark One was not capable of a healthy relationship. Gabriel had been, and she was furious at herself for not taking him more seriously and for choosing to accept Darkyn's deal instead of taking a chance with Gabriel. If Gabriel had killed her while trying to save her, he'd kill the soul in her head, too, the one that damned Deidre to Hell. All of this would've been avoided.

She hadn't been ready to die, though. Did it make her a bad person for wanting the best chance at life? She hadn't thought so, but then again, she never expected to end up in Hell.

Unwritten terms, Darkyn called them. The ones only he knew that let him win.

Maybe Zamon had answers. He might at least explain what these laws were that condemned her to Darkyn. She didn't believe that her bet with Past-Death wouldn't make a difference. If Past-Death being dead had rendered Deidre the mate of Gabriel, why wouldn't it work again, once Deidre won their deal?

"I feel like crap," she muttered and rested her forehead against the black stone wall of the shower. The water was hot and the water pressure brutal. It helped wake her up without completely lifting the fog of a fever that had been present since yesterday.

Darkyn's amusement at the deal made her shudder. She had to figure out what she was missing fast and how permanent it was to be an Immortal mate.

Deidre turned off the shower, some semblance of a plan comforting her. She dressed then went through the motions of brushing her teeth and dressing without the aid of a mirror, irritated that the only mirror in the bedroom was in the inside door of the wardrobe. She wiped the last of the toothpaste from her mouth and glanced down. Blood bubbled from the cut on her index finger. She stuck it in her mouth and cut it again. The wounds healed almost instantly.

Puzzled, she studied her finger, not understanding what was cutting it. She had no old wounds she was reopening. She ran her tongue across her gums again and froze.

Deidre whipped the door open, ignoring the sting of her wet hair against her shoulders. The dress shifted around her as she hurried to the wardrobe. She pushed open the door with the mirror and stared. Petite, white, pointed fangs extended from her upper gums to rest on her plump lower lip.

"No, no, no," she whispered and pushed at the teeth with a finger. They were real. She bared her teeth. Her two canines were larger than before and gave her the appearance of a vampire.

Or demon. The Dark One was going to turn her Immortal. Had he made her a demon?

She controlled her breathing to keep her frantic emotions from consuming her.

Her eyes went to the mantle where the hourglass remained. Deidre strode to the hearth and picked up the time marker that was no larger than her pinkie. She tilted it. The sand only moved one way, even when upside down.

She found herself poking the new teeth with her tongue to confirm they really were there.

Maybe they were temporary. When the sand ran out, she'd have no Darkyn tattoo, no demon fangs, no Past-Death standing between her and Gabriel.

How certain are you? Darkyn had baited her.

She wasn't. At all. What if she won but stayed a demon? What if she lost and stayed a demon? Whose bright idea was it to turn her into a demon anyway? What if she lost the bet entirely?

She swallowed hard to keep tears from forming.

There had to be a way out of this. Fate said to do what Darkyn said. Fate wanted Past-Death dead. Thus far, he'd been the most helpful of the Immortals. He wasn't going to abandon her, too, was he?

Deidre went back to the mirror and gazed at herself. She wore the Grecian style gown of Hell: secured around her neck by a loose band, it draped over her curves and pooled at her feet, leaving her arms, shoulders and back bare to the hips. She wore the metal collar that marked her as Darkyn's food source. The scars the Dark One created when he turned her Immortal were more faded today than yesterday.

Her pink hair was up in a bun that revealed the delicate cut of her elfin features. Her large blue-green eyes were clear and calm, the curves of her slender frame complemented by the cut and drape of the dress. Her lips were red and her features flushed from the fever. She sensed more than saw the largest difference within her. The sunny glow she was known for was gone, replaced by a sultriness rendered dangerous by the fangs resting on her lower lip.

She looked seductive, no longer sweet. The distinction left her feeling torn. She'd lost something when the Dark One turned her. At the same time, the petite woman in the mirror was beyond gorgeous, the combination of shimmering seductiveness and cool beauty stunning.

She had fangs.

Deidre closed the door, near tears once more. She raised the hourglass. She had to make it only a few more days.

"You still don't believe me."

She tensed at his low voice. She hadn't heard him enter but doubted the Dark One used doors.

"I don't know what to believe," she replied. "None of this is real."

"It is."

"What did you do to me?"

"I turned you."

"Into what?"

"What do you think?"

Deidre faced him. Across the room, Darkyn held the tension of a taut rubber band. His predatory gaze was on her. No part of his stance or piercing look was welcoming and yet, she felt the urge to cross to him. A flash of a dream went through her mind. It was of his lean body pressing her into the bed while they made love. She shook her head, not about to believe anything of the sort happened outside her nightmare.

Darkyn's hands were clasped behind his back. He approached her, eyes on her lips. Deidre didn't move, afraid of provoking him.

He reached out to take the hourglass, grazing her skin in the act. Her breath caught at the cool electricity that ran through her. She flushed. His gaze flickered to hers. He was coldly amused. He held up the hourglass in the space between them.

"Let's talk, shall we?" he asked.

"I don't think I want to," she replied. She felt too fragile to deal with him.

"Assume you win your bet. Do you really think you'll become Gabriel's mate?" he started, ignoring her. "The chances are slim it will work. Both of you bear the mating marks now. She had none before her death. She'd have to be dead-dead which could happen next week or in a millennium."

Deidre swallowed hard. She recalled the other thing she hated about interacting with him: he always knew how to read her deepest fears. He was good at throwing them back at her, too, like he was doing now.

"So? What if I can... um, expedite that?" she asked.

"Love, you couldn't kill me. You can't kill her."

Deidre met his gaze. To emphasize his words, he lifted her hand and placed it over his heart. Her chin trembled at the steady pulse of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. She'd felt it last night, too, before... before the fever dream about them having sex.

It had to be a dream, except that she remembered the heat of the skin beneath his shirt and tracing the scars she knew covered his body.

"What do you want from me, Darkyn?" she asked, afraid to admit how right he was.

"For you to accept that this is where you belong." He tossed the hourglass onto a chair. Her eyes followed it. It was her one hope out of this place.

She shook her head. Deidre's heart was flying at his nearness. His magic crept up her arm and into her body. She dropped her hand from his chest, needing to think.

"Very well. The chances are slim that what you want will happen. I prefer the alternative of them being non-existent," he said. "There are three bonds that are older than time. The mating bond is one, used by Immortals and deities. A blood bond is another, practiced between demons in place of the mating bond. There's only one entity in the universe that can transform a human into a new form that can be blood bound to a demon."

She didn't have to ask which entity that was. She touched her mouth and felt the canines at the mention of transforming her. She suspected he was one step ahead, but she wasn't expecting him to reveal his plan.

"We will be blood bound. Think of it as...insurance. That slim chance you leave here becomes no chance."

"I won't do it."

"You are mine already," he said in a quiet voice. "If the blood bond takes, there is nothing that can break a double-bond. No deal, no manipulation by Fate, no breaking of the laws from the time-before-time."

Deidre's quick breathing was loud in her ears.

"I don't lose," he added. "Ever." He touched her face. "The bond is voluntary. You've already got the teeth."

She shuddered and quickly lifted her chin.

"I won't," she said, unable to stomach the idea that he turned her demon or that there was no chance she ever left Hell. "Nothing you do will convince me."

"No?" He touched her arm.

Deidre backed away. If his touch was hard to resist last night, it was crippling today. Anger and panic bubbled within her. She fell into his trance last night; she needed to keep her head clear to deal with him this time. Except she was suddenly hungry again, the faint, sweet scent winding through her senses.

Darkyn pursued calmly, eyes glowing. He touched her again. She moved away. He was amused at whatever game he played as he closed the distance between them once more. It fed her fury. He took her arm, and she yanked away from him.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed.

He reached for her once more, and she slapped his hand away.

"If there is a way out, I will find it!" she snapped. "Fate said..." she stopped, recalling the blond deity's warning about not revealing he had visited.

"You trust Fate over me?" Darkyn mused. "Interesting. What did he tell you? Obey me, and you'd leave?" He continued to move closer.

"Yes." Her senses addled, Deidre was forced to retreat.

"What exactly did he say? That you'd leave?"

"That I'd be..." relatively okay. Fate hadn't said anything about leaving. She shook her head to clear the memory. "I mean, he didn't say leave... he..." A sick sense of betrayal sank into her stomach. "Survive. He said I'd survive."

"Maybe he wanted to ensure I didn't kill you before we were bound." Darkyn pretended to consider.

"You made a deal for me. Why would you kill me?"

"If I don't like what I find, I'm not obligated to keep you alive before the bonds form," he said pointedly. "You interpreted what he told you in a way that gave you hope."

She knocked away his next attempt to reach her, fully aware he was distracting her physically while whittling down her resistance mentally.

"Of all the Immortals and deities fucking with you, I have no need to lie. Yet you trust him over me."

"I don't trust any of you! From the first minute I was dragged into this fucked up world, I've been lied to and used. Past-Death claims to – stop! Don't touch me!" she said with a shudder at the fire his fingers sent through her arm. "Past-Death almost killed me and you trick me into coming here. Now you want to make sure I never leave!"

"I saved your life. By law, you are mine twice over even without the blood bond."

Her back hit the wall. He stopped close enough for their bodies to touch if she breathed in too deeply.

"I'm the only one who hasn't lied to you. Even Gabriel has," Darkyn said.

"No," she said flatly. "You won't turn me against him."

"Why? Because you felt the mating bond with him first? The same one you feel with me? He did nothing but hide the truth from you. Your illness, Wynn, Past-Death. He was in love with a ghost and unwilling to take a chance on you. Did he tell you who he was before he fucked you?"

"Stop!" she grated. His words struck her as true; they were the same doubts she'd had about Gabriel since she met him. Feeling claustrophobic, she broke the plane between them and shoved him. Darkyn caught her hands and pushed them down to her side. His magic shot through her. His nearness was driving her crazy. She smelled something faint, familiar. Entrancing. It was calling to her. She felt as if she hadn't just eaten a large breakfast. She was starving.

"You know the Immortal mating bond is what made you connect with him," Darkyn continued.

"No," she insisted. "You can never understand." She stared hard at his chest as she struggled with her anger and need. They were spinning out of control, fed by the direct contact with him and the elusive scent that was making her mouth water. Her whole body was burning up with something she never, ever expected to feel for a demon: need.

"So you feel nothing now," he stated. "Say it. Lie to me and tell me you aren't about to throw yourself at my feet and beg me to fuck you."

His mocking tone infuriated her. She wrenched free of his hold and pushed him hard enough to slide out from between him and the wall.

"I wonder what your Gabriel will think when he finds out. Fucking the Dark One. Blood bound to the Dark One. And only the Dark One."

"It won't happen."

Breathing raggedly, she tried hard to rein in the emotions that were close to landing her in trouble. She hated his rules, but she wasn't fighting him. She was trying hard not to run. She wasn't going to give him an excuse to attack her. It struck her that he was baiting her, perhaps for that reason.

"I am sick of this shit," she said. "I'm sick of deities and Immortals tricking and lying to me. What do you want? Or are you just tormenting me for the fun of it?"

"Does it matter?"

She faced him again. "You wouldn't be here if it didn't. You won't convince me what I felt towards Gabriel wasn't real, and there is nothing you can do to make me do this blood bond."

"You already know the Immortal mating is what made you feel that way towards Gabriel. If you thought otherwise, you wouldn't have fucked me last night," he said, meeting her gaze.

"What? I..." she gaped at him. "It was a dream!"

"It was the final stage of your transition into a demon. It might have felt like a dream, but I can assure you it was not," he said, smiling.

"I refuse to believe you," she cried. "Tell me what you want or just leave me alone!

"I did. I want you to accept that you belong here, and I want to hear the words."

"What words?"

"The ones where you tell me you're mine."

She shook her head.

"You've started to admit the truth to yourself," he added. "I want to hear it out loud."

"If I say the words you want, are you manipulating me into this bond, the same way you did to get me into Hell?" she demanded.

"You're mine either way."

"No, I'm not. I'm Gabriel's," she retorted.

Darkyn gave a slow smile. "How certain are you?"

"I'll never say those fucking words, and I'll never be blood bound!"

"My bet is that you will do both before the hourglass runs out."

"I'm not about to be tricked into another bond or whatever it is you're trying to trick me into," she replied.

"No tricks," he said. "How about this. A private deal, just between us. If we become blood bound, you say the words."

"If we don't?"

"You don't," he said with a shrug.

"What about the unwritten terms?"

"None. Simple deal."

She studied him. She'd never let him blood bind her, but he wasn't someone who took no for an answer, even if it was allegedly voluntary. Double-bound, though, meant she was fucked as far as Gabriel.

"I'm not playing your game," she said and turned away again. Her body was trembling. She didn't know why, couldn't get control of either her emotions or the hunger in her blood. They left her beyond confused, terrified and certain she didn't want anything to do with Darkyn right now.

"You know I'm right. You know Past-Death will stop at nothing to get what she wants," Darkyn said. "I foresee you winning your deal. I also foresee Gabriel refusing to kill her. He cannot. She's his mate by Immortal laws, and we both know how seriously he takes his duty. He will protect her, as is his obligation. No one will challenge Death to kill her. Which leaves you here. With me. For eternity. My informal deal is one week. At the end of it, if you've not bound yourself to me, then the deal expires. We can spend eternity together and you never say the words."

Darkyn was right. She knew Gabriel. He'd sworn to protect her, even while pushing her away. He followed the laws. She found no flaws in Darkyn's logic, which only made her despair soar.

"Are the words part of the blood binding rite?" she asked. She was almost ready to say whatever he wanted to get rid of him. Her world was crushing her; she needed to be alone.

"No."

"It must be voluntary?"

"On both our parts."

"Why are the words so important? Me being your mate isn't enough?" she guessed. "You want complete surrender."

"You did that last night, no matter what you choose to remember." The husky laugh made her stomach flutter. "Mentally, you are holding out. I spent my life at battle. There is no such thing as half a victory. I won't let you think there's a chance this isn't real or permanent."

"So, that's it?" she asked.

"That's it. Private deal. One week."

The idea that it bothered him enough to provoke a deal made her brow furrow. All she had to do was make it a week without agreeing to the blood binding. There had to be a catch with Darkyn's deal. She didn't see it, though, unless he intended to force her to do it, in which case, she was fucked anyway. The words would mean nothing to her at that point.

"Fine," she said, at the end of her rope with him. "Will you leave me alone now? Please."

"Not quite. I came to feed as well."

Deidre heard him approach from behind. She tensed, waiting for the flip to switch and him to grab her. He touched her, trailing his hands down her arms. Her body responded to him in a way that made her angrier. He nudged her head to the side to reach her neck, and she pushed back, refusing.

His hands on her arms made her body betray her again. It was harder to resist him than it was Gabriel, which made her want to weep. She didn't understand it. It wasn't possible she was meant for Darkyn. He nudged her head once more. She refused him.

"Rules," he reminded her.

"Fuck your rules," she said. "And fuck you if you think I'll ever volunteer to be bound to you."

"That's why I have insurance."

He pulled her into his body, and the intensity of the strange hunger within her expanded. She focused on what he said to keep herself distracted from the yearning growing in her body. She felt his arousal against her backside, while his other hand rested on the bare skin of her hip. Hot nips started down the side of her neck. Overwhelmed, she instinctively tilted her head in submission, exposing her neck to him.

"I don't lose deals, Deidre," he repeated. "You were bound last night."

The images he placed in her mind were of her arching beneath him, crying out his name, while he drank from her. She recalled biting him and the taste of his blood. It was thick in her mouth, slightly sweet, and made her ravenous. It was her fever dream without the heaviness of illness to blur it.

"No," she said. "You're messing with me."

Darkyn responded by removing his hand from her body. He ran one finger along her lips. She felt a drop of warmth and instinctively licked it. Warm, sweet.

Him.

Her hunger became crippling. She wrenched away from him, desire and thirst making her head reel.

"Look in the mirror," he said, nodding his head towards the wardrobe. "You've got the demon marking already."

Deidre fled to it, needing something to bolster the defenses that were dropping too fast. She yanked the wardrobe open and turned to peer over her shoulder.

She had two markings on her back: One burgundy, the familiar Immortal mating tattoo, and the new one black, positioned directly beneath the original. Both displayed Darkyn's name. Shocked, she wasn't able to move.

"You will never have a chance with Gabriel, even when you win your deal." Darkyn touched her arm again, his cool energy making her snap.

"You son of a bitch!" she whispered. "I will never say those words!" Deidre slapped him hard. Darkyn's tongue flickered out to catch the drop of blood from the corner of his mouth.

She raised a hand to slap him again, but he grabbed her. Any control she had slid away. She struggled against him, not caring what he did to her now that he'd taken away her only real hope of leaving.

He kissed her. The taste of the blood in his mouth ensnared her instantly. She stilled, arrested by the flavor and texture. All conscience effort to think fled and was replaced by a new instinct, the primal need to feed. He released her. Deidre took his face in her hands, hungrily trying to taste more of him as she explored his mouth with fervor.

Only when every last lingering fleck of blood was gone did her ability to think return. She dropped back on her heels, staring up at him in surprise. Darkyn's dark eyes glowed. His fangs were out, his attention riveted to her.

"Blood bond," he said quietly. "The original bond from the time-before-time. Demons are the only who still practice it. Immortals and deities have mating marks. Demons have blood marks. I am both a deity and a demon, which means you have both. Insurance." He stepped away, towards the bed, peeling off his shirt as he went.

Deidre couldn't register what he said and how permanent he claimed it was.

"I know you are hungry. Come feed with me."

She drank blood! Horrified, Deidre started toward the door. She needed to run away, far away, until this nightmare was over.

Darkyn stopped where he was and lifted a hand. He slid a fingernail across the pad of his thumb.

The scent of blood was crippling.

She tried to turn away, but the smell filled her senses with inhuman hunger and desperation. Deidre sank to the floor, not trusting herself. She wanted – needed – to taste him again. It was painful. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her face in the crook of one elbow.

Wake up, Deidre! She ordered herself.

Too aware of him, she tensed as he crouched beside her, the scent too potent to be a dream.

"I can't... do this." She shook as much from need as fear.

"You already have."

"It's wrong."

"You feed me. I feed you. We give each other life. What is so wrong in that?" he countered. His cool touch calmed her this time, parted the reeling emotions and chaotic thoughts.

On some level – in the newfound instincts that wanted to taste him – his words made sense. Even with him taking the edge off, reality still wasn't real. This place, him, her situation – they couldn't be, or she was going to go insane.

"Let me go. Please," she whispered, raising her head to see him.

"It's too late for that."

"Is there no part of you capable of..." she stopped. His eyes were so cold and ancient. Hard. Unforgiving. Merciless.

"No, there's not," he replied just as softly.

"Am I so bad that I end up married to the devil?"

"You are the only innocent soul in Hell." His chilling smile did nothing to make his statement more tolerable.

Darkyn tipped her chin up, until she met his gaze again.

"This is where you belong. You must accept that. You must accept me. I didn't just turn you Immortal; I turned you into one of my kind. A demon. One who must feed on blood to live."

He offered his bloodied thumb. With effort, she turned her head away.

"I can't be like you. I can't hurt people or drink their blood," she said.

"You don't have to. You will only drink from me. You will only hunger for me."

"And you?" she asked, bitterness in her voice.

"The same."

Uncertain if she understood him or not, Deidre studied him. He had yet to lie to her, and she didn't think he was now. He had no need to; this was his domain. In his mind, she was already his.

"I will only drink from you," he said slowly, clearly. "It is what being blood bound means. Think of it this way, love. You are saving five lives a day, simply by being my mate." He smiled.

Deidre's mouth almost fell open. "You were killing so many people?"

"Bled them dry. This will help you rationalize and accept your place here, I believe."

She swallowed. "You turned me into a demon."

"I did." He shifted forward as he spoke and nudged her head aside with his. The low purr in his chest was audible. He nuzzled her neck.

Deidre closed her eyes, hating that she was turned on by the thought of him feeding from her. Of her needing his blood.

He turned her into a demon. A creature that required blood to live. More tears squeezed from her eyes. She already sensed she was fighting a losing battle. She wanted him so bad, it hurt.

"Drink," he whispered.

The impulse to do as he bid was too strong. She touched his neck with trembling hands and felt his pulse. He, too, was a demon, but he had a human body, a heart, blood.

He waited.

"There's no going back," she said hoarsely.

"No, there's not." Sensing she was yielding, Darkyn drew her into his body.

Deidre's breathing was ragged as she tried to process what she was about to do. She found herself nuzzling his neck, compelled by the elusive scent and taste. Why didn't the idea disgust her like she thought it should?

"This is really happening," she said in disbelief.

"It is. You can't hurt me. Drink."

"If you knew I was blood-bound, why provoke me into a deal you already won?" she asked.

"You need to confront what is before you. Gabriel's biggest mistake was not forcing you to accept your new world from the start. I will not make the same one," he replied. "And I like to know you've got some fight in you. I'll teach you how to fuck like a demon before the week is out."

She hesitated. Need was thick in her body, an inhuman craving she knew now how to satisfy. She bit him timidly, failed to draw blood, then closed her eyes and bit him hard.

He growled, a sound that made his chest vibrate against hers in a way not remotely human. He didn't tell her to stop. The growl faded to a purr. She drew his blood into her mouth, immediately appeased by the elusive flavor that made her blood burn. She was tasting him.

The unnaturally deep intimacy of the moment wasn't lost on her. Deidre eased against him, the tension fleeing her body. Her senses became saturated quickly by his scent and heat. She withdrew her teeth from his neck, not at all certain what to think of what she'd done.

"You are the first and only to draw my blood." His purr was husky.

She rested her cheek against his, and they breathed the same air, his steady and hers erratic. Deidre felt the wetness of her tears. She was confused again, unable to shake the memory of Gabriel or fully accept this new fate.

"That means something important, doesn't it?" she asked.

"It means I accept you as my mate," he said. "It means you can fight me now."

"How about running?"

"Try it and see."

"I'm not ready for that," she replied. "I'm not ready for this. For you."

"The bonds are complete." His shifted, and his tongue flickered out to capture her tears. "There's nothing else between you and me, except you accepting it."

Deidre wasn't expecting his version of kindness. He was too hard and cold to offer much in that way, but he spoke the truth softly and then kissed her hungrily. She responded, her sorrow and confusion feeding her need. He lifted his head.

"No more tears," he said. A cunning smile crossed his face.

She stared, not understanding. She smelled it suddenly and jerked, scouring his body to find the blood whose scent stirred her senses. She spotted the maroon drops on the pad of one thumb and drew his hand up to her lips. Before she could capture the drops, he lifted his hand above his head, out of her reach. He stood.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused. She rose with him.

"Provoking you."

Hunger roared within her. Deidre stretched but couldn't reach. He pushed her away and moved towards the bed. The sensations within her churned and burned in a way that demanded she do something. She treaded to him and pulled his head down to kiss her then nudged it aside instead to reach his neck.

Darkyn pushed her away again. Madness was settling into her at the scent and sight of his blood. She could neither control her body's reaction to it nor satiate it.

"Come on. I'll teach you to play with your food." The light of challenge was in Darkyn's eyes. He waited.

Deidre caved, unable to take the newfound hunger. She went to him. She ran her hands over his chest and leaned forward, nipping him hard enough to draw blood.

"Nice try," Darkyn chuckled. He grabbed her hips, kissing her hard and leaving her breathless. He drove her back onto the bed, pressed her down and rested on top of her.

Deidre reached for him, straining to ease the need to taste him. Darkyn played keep away, until she was drowning in heat, desire and the hot hunger that felt like it was going to consume her. His solid body was on top of hers yet unattainable. He withheld kisses and blood, refusing to sate either of her cravings.

"Come on. Play," he whispered into her ear. His direct look managed to stir what part of her wasn't already desperate.

Near frenzied, Deidre fought to pull some part of him close enough for her to taste. He growled in response and nipped her neck, pushing her away roughly. He was different than the last deity she'd slept with. Whereas Gabriel was willing to give-and-take, Darkyn toyed with her and demanded submission in exchange for controlled pleasure.

He alternately let her feed just enough to drive her mad then drank from her, while he commanded her body relentlessly. Only when he finished with her did he relent.

Panting and exhausted, Deidre couldn't have moved, had he not shifted to hold her against him.

"Drink," he whispered.

Deidre let her newfound instincts guide her. She fed. The hunger abated, and she dropped her head back to the pillow, satisfied. Her body entwined with his, she breathed in his scent as deeply as she could. Her mind returned now that her need was gone, and she opened her eyes.

She drank blood. She slept with the devil. Why wasn't she freaking out?

"I am very satisfied with you, my little human," Darkyn said, his lips moving against her temple.

"I get to live another day," she murmured.

"Maybe two, if you please me again."

"You're not funny."

"You have nothing to fear from me now."

"Is that true?" she asked. "Like, really true?"

"I have no need to lie to you."

Deidre was quiet. Physically at ease with him, she nonetheless had no idea how to talk to a lover who was neither one she chose nor human. She couldn't help thinking the creature whose job it was to trick people into Hell wasn't above lying to the human mate he took.

"You're not afraid I'll try to run away?" she asked.

"You need my blood and don't yet understand how to curb the hunger. If you leave, you won't stay away long or go far."

Her face warmed at how desperate she'd been for a single drop of him, to feel him inside her while his fangs sank into her neck.

"Insurance," she whispered, distraught. "You're serious about keeping me."

"I don't lose. I love a fight and an absolute victory even more," he replied.

Her eyes blurred with tears. She wiped them away. Darkyn was quiet and still, his body relaxed for the first time since she'd known him. He slid a pointed fingernail down her arm. Blood bubbled up. The scratch healed itself as fast as it formed.

"You will be able to use some of my magic," he said, following her gaze. "You will heal like I do. You will have the instincts of a demon and a human. I've assessed that you are vulnerable to the deception and depravity of others. In time, the ability I've shared with you will enable you to determine deception, weakness and threat from others."

"Like a human lie detector?"

"Of sorts. You will sense without reading minds."

"If I had that originally, Wynn couldn't have almost killed me and I wouldn't be here now," she murmured.

"It's useless to dwell on what might've been. What is and will be are all that matters."

She ran her hand down his arm and side, unable to shake the desire to saturate her senses with every part of him. The thought of an eternity with someone incapable of caring for her was a nightmare beyond those she had already lived. She tried to distract the building panic.

"Do demons have emotions?" she asked.

"They are not of your understanding," he replied. "The blood bond is the greatest obligation a demon can take to another. It is not based on emotion."

"You did it to make sure you win a deal. That doesn't seem..." smart.

"Smart," he repeated, even though she hadn't spoken it. Darkyn lifted his head to study her. "How would a human who lived a fraction of one life judge my actions as foolish?" He tensed.

"You're angry. That's an emotion I do understand," she said. "It scares me."

He said nothing for a moment then lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. His body relaxed. Deidre took it as a sign he was passing on the subject. She did the same, unwilling to provoke him.

"Why me, Darkyn?" she asked, distraught. "I'm nothing like you."

"You see the stars and the moon instead of how dark the night is." He quoted, trailing hot kisses along her collarbone.

Her whole body deflated at his mocking tone. They were the same she'd said to Gabriel on the beach, the night they met. She'd been on the verge of dying, discussing how her impending death forced her to decide whether she wanted to live or mourn.

"That's so cruel," she whispered.

"I made a deal for you. No one else."

She considered his words anew as she heard her own. He wanted a mate. He wanted her. Darkyn was like a housecat that dragged in beheaded birds and left them in the middle of the floor for its owner. Was the offering a compliment or a complaint?

She was too unsettled by the past two days to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Can demons love?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "We have no need for such a human emotion."

"Not even for affection?"

"I know pleasure."

"That's physical. Is there no demon equivalent for... mental pleasure? Fondness?"

"There's no difference for demons."

Deidre had the sense of speaking a different language, even though she understood his words. How did they not have emotions when she saw signs of them?

"Humans are emotional," she said.

"It's a weakness I exploit."

She frowned.

"Do you really kill five people a day to feed?" she asked, a streak of raw fear going through her. She couldn't fathom the amount of pain he had caused over his lifetime.

"Sometimes more." He nuzzled her neck again. "Now I'll only need you."

She was comfortable in bed with him – yet silently panicking as well. Deidre didn't understand how to balance the two sensations, the physical need that made her want to drink more of him and beg him to make love to her again, and the inability to believe her fate was at the side of the Dark One. She was saving lives, yes, but she wished there was a different way to do it.

She sought a safer topic, one that wouldn't leave her ready to scream.

"I found Zamon yesterday, before uh, the incident with the other demons," she said.

"You do not find Zamon. He lures you to him."

"Hmm," she said, troubled. "He's not out to eat me, is he?"

"No. He asked me if he should be talking to you."

"And you said..."

"You're the mate of the Dark One. You can do whatever the fuck you want."

His irritated honesty startled her enough that she started to laugh. The sound surprised her after the intensity of their interactions. She choked it back quickly, appalled she was able to find humor at such a time.

"The only thing he can't do is teach you to deal. I alone will do that," he added.

"You're not afraid I'll learn something to break the bonds?" she asked.

Darkyn pushed her far enough to meet her gaze.

"You're mine. There's no going back."

At the reminder, she looked away, uncertain how to handle her newest foray into the weirdness that was the Immortal world.

"The taste of a human and the stamina of a demon. I want to fuck you like this every night," Darkyn said and nipped her neck.

"You only have a week," she retorted.

"That reminds me. Someone lost a bet," he said.

She shook her head, emotions stirring one more.

"You lost the deal." He gripped her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. Cold and merciless, this creature was her mate for all time. The brutal reality was that he'd double-bound her to ensure he didn't lose – and not because any part of him was capable of affection. She was stuck with the creature behind the evil in the world.

There was no going back.

"Look at me." His tongue flicked out to taste her tears. "Say the words."

She drew a shaky breath. Darkyn's face hovered next to hers. The ancient intelligence in his gaze terrified her, and she couldn't escape the scent of blood and sex that left her feeling intoxicated and wanting more of him.

"I'm yours, Darkyn," she whispered.

The predatory smile crossed his face. She tried to twist away from him. He held her in place.

"You got what you wanted," she objected. "You win!"

"Say it again."

She stopped struggling, overcome by feelings.

"I'm yours, Darkyn," she said.

"You don't yet accept it," he observed. "You will soon, love. You will know before the week is out where you belong."

She rolled away from him, not wanting to cry in front of him but unable to prevent the tears that were starting to form.

Darkyn left her silently. Only when he was gone did she let herself cry.

## DAY three

## Chapter Three

Deidre looked over her shoulder at the reflection in the mirror displaying the two markings on her back. She gripped the hourglass, a symbol of her hope at leaving, even after learning that there was no real hope.

"That was one chain of events." Fate's reflection moved into her line of sight. The blond deity with multi-hued eyes and a quick smile was dressed for a dressage event, complete with helmet and crop.

She sighed. "I want nothing to do with you." She tucked the hourglass into the small pocket inside her dress at waist level.

"Love the fangs. Super sexy."

"I'm one of those TV vampires."

"More like a little fruit bat. Harmless."

Deidre faced him, face warm. The way he said it made it clear he was making fun of her. He was studying her. He offered a small smile, not nearly as large as the one he'd given her the day he gave her the advice that ended up condemning her.

"Didn't go the way you planned?" she asked.

"Yes and no," he admitted. "I manage the destinies of billions of the living. It always pains me to see some preferred outcomes involving the innocent."

"You knew."

"I always know."

"Then why did you tell me what you did?"

"To ensure this preferred outcome came to fruition. Darkyn has been spinning out of control for many years. Now that he's the boss down here, it's a dangerous combination. He needed something to take that edge off."

"So you kept me quiet long enough for the marking to appear." She wanted to slap him, more because he was making it obvious how right Darkyn was.

"I kept you quiet long enough for the bond to stick. For you, it was instant. For a creature from the time-before-time, it's not always the case," Fate said. "The mating bond has to take. The blood bond has to take. Otherwise, he can kill you."

"That sounds like a preferred outcome to me!" she snapped.

"Silver lining, fruit bat," he said, grinning. "You always find one. You will find one here in Hell. It will become all that stands between your mate and the human world. Trust me."

"No way. If I've learned anything, it's never to trust a deity or an Immortal or a demon."

"Darkyn did what Gabriel should have," Fate mused. "Made you face the truth before the first day was out."

"Funny how the devil is the one who's deceived me the least. He taught me how to kill someone, by the way," she added.

"The danger with Darkyn is dealing and you, my dear, are harmless," he replied. "A creature that powerful has no need to lie, until he wants to lure you to Hell. You're already here."

"Was that how he became the Dark One? He out-dealt the other Dark One?"

"Yes. It didn't hurt he's old enough that he's had time to build his power as well. When the timing was right, he had the advantages of strength and negotiating without the hindrance of mercy or a conscience."

She shivered. Darkyn didn't have compassion. He hadn't killed her, because of the bonds and a deal she made without knowing how important it was. An eternity with someone who was unable to care for her?

"If it helps, you are the only pure soul in Hell," Fate said, reading her expression. "If anyone can make him less... him, it's you."

"Great. I have no purpose but to make others' lives easier. Why is any of this happening?" she asked, throat tight. "Did I screw up somewhere along the line?"

Fate gazed at her for a moment. "Have you ever seen the web of a black widow?"

She shook her head.

"It's a disaster. Other spiders weave these beautiful, symmetrical, ethereal webs whose designs have been the inspiration for art and mythology for as long as there were spiders," he explained. "That is what people think of when I tell them about the chain of events. In truth, destiny is like the web of a black widow. Take all the webbing of a normal spider, wad it up and tangle everything together then attach it to random points. It's more of a cluttered box than a web. That's the real chain of events. I can follow the threads, but no one else can, and there's always the chance that something unexpected gets caught up in them. Sometimes it's even a surprise to me."

"Was I unexpected?" she asked.

"No. It's just an example. You were one of the first threads in this web."

"Then you admit to lying to me to make sure I was stuck in your web."

"I did what I had to in order to ensure the web never crashes down around the spider," he said. "This is what I do. Imagine trying to monitor zillions of these webs."

"Who is the spider in my web?" she demanded.

"Who says there's a spider? Those fangs are so sexy." His gaze was on her mouth. "You'll want to be careful when you go to the human world."

"Is that general advice or forecasting?" she asked, frowning.

He winked.

"You are so frustrating. Like every other deity I meet."

She wanted to ask him more, like what happened when her bet with Past-Death was up. It didn't matter, since she was bound to Darkyn, but she found herself wondering anyway. She didn't think she could trust anything he told her.

"I'm glad you're okay," Fate sounded sincere. "Now I know you'll remain that way."

"You said something similar two days ago, before I became the mate of the Dark One."

"I mean it this time." He chuckled. "I'm okay with you hating me, now that I know you'll be okay. One last tip. Three doors down on your left."

Deidre almost cringed at the thought of leaving the chamber after her first venture out that landed her not only in trouble but also in Darkyn's bed. She twisted her hair into a bun and felt the warm energy of Fate fade with him.

When she was done, she studied her reflection. The sultriness was present, along with the calm steadiness of her blue gaze. She felt centered and refreshed this morning, the newfound hunger for the blood of her mate sated for now. She was surprised to find the idea of tasting him didn't repulse her, as if the intimate bond with him was natural.

She should be disgusted. Deidre shook her head in frustration and left her room. She lingered outside her door, waiting for someone to attack her. When no one did, she paced three doors down and paused.

Fate had a way of setting her up. She wasn't so sure she wanted to know what was behind that door.

She was also tired of being afraid.

Deidre knocked. A moment later, the door opened, and she gasped. The Immortal who posed as her only friend and surgeon for years – who also nearly killed her – stood before her. His dark skin was offset by brilliant turquoise eyes, his noble carriage and cold features giving him the appearance of an ancient prince.

"Wynn!"

He raised an eyebrow in the only sign of surprise. His eyes settled on the fangs resting on her lower lips. Self-conscious, she felt her face grow warm and crossed her arms. She pressed her lip together to hide her fangs.

"He lost no time in turning you," Wynn said. "Come in." He opened the door wider to display a chamber the same size as hers but outfitted as if for a hospital.

Deidre entered uncertainly. A girl in her mid-teens lay still on the hospital bed central to the room. Half her face was disfigured.

"Double-bound? I didn't even know it was possible." Wynn was unable to hide his surprise this time.

Unwilling to admit to the bonds let alone talk about them, Deidre focused on the girl.

"Is this..."

"His daughter."

Deidre wasn't certain what to think at the sight of the girl on the bed. She drew nearer, eyes sweeping over the medical equipment in the room. The girl appeared to be sleeping, her breathing deep and steady.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked.

Wynn took up position in a seat near the bed. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was drawn.

"Sasha, one of my sons hurt her. He was on the Council until shortly after I died-dead, after which he betrayed the Immortals to work for the Dark One, Darkyn's predecessor. Darkyn cracked down on him, and Sasha hurt his daughter."

"If he fixed me, why can't he fix her?" Deidre frowned, disturbed by the idea of some psycho hurting the girl. Darkyn's daughter appeared frail and gaunt, her skin a shade or two darker than the white pillow beneath her head. The damage done to half her face caused horrible scarring that left her features lopsided and her skin knotted. The other side of her face displayed facial features that were heavy rather than feminine, resembling her father's.

"I'm assuming it was because a deal went bad. I guess the time this all happened was when Darkyn took on the Dark One. He wouldn't say much else, other than she cannot be fixed with the magic of Hell," Wynn explained. "She's in a stasis right now, caught between life and death. I've been charged with curing her. Or I'll never leave Hell."

Deidre felt no pity for him, despite the circumstances. After what he'd done to her, she wasn't able to. Wynn's eyes fell to her fangs again then drifted down her body.

"He changed you," he murmured. "You won't be leaving here after your deal is up with Past-Death."

"How do you know about that?"

"I was waiting in the portal room with her when Darkyn came to tell me I wasn't leaving," Wynn said with mild amusement. "He stripped her deity powers, said she had to earn Gabriel the same way you did."

Darkyn did two things that she almost agreed with. Deidre didn't think it was a good sign that she cheered on the Dark One. Did it make her bad, too?

"Lesson learned. Don't screw over his mate," Wynn finished.

"It wasn't for my sake," she assured him.

"He knew exactly what he was doing."

"Darkyn doesn't lose. As I learned, my deals hold the same power of enforcement as his. He was making certain I win," she said. "I'm assuming he kept you because you're the best surgeon there is. Even if you did use your skills to try to kill me."

"I'm not the mate of the Dark One. Those skills give me a small chance of leaving," he reminded her.

"I was destined for this," she returned. "Past-Death told me how she made me in her image to trick the laws into making me Gabriel's mate." Deidre hugged herself, disturbed. "She said she made me, used me and was done with me. She traded me to him, Wynn, like I'm nothing. Maybe I shouldn't be, but I'm glad Darkyn stripped her power. Maybe she'll learn a thing or two about being human."

Wynn studied her, warmth in his eyes. "I don't know how this all unfolded," he said. "You truly are an innocent caught in the politics of the Immortals and the scheming of deities. You are the last person who deserves to be here."

"You always say the right thing," she murmured. "Even while you were killing me."

She paused, knowing she shouldn't ask what she'd wanted to since finding out what he did. At this point, there was no reason not to.

"How could you, Wynn?" she asked, with more emotion than she intended.

"It's done, Deidre," he said.

"It's that simple to you? I mean nothing to you, like I meant nothing to her? I'm disposable?"

"Deidre," he stopped then continued with some effort. "I loved you in this life and the last. I lost you in both, too, once by the choice of Past-Death and once by my own. There is no part of me that wishes I couldn't go back and save you from this. He won't let me out of here alive, I don't think."

Deidre returned her attention to the girl. Wynn regretted what he did; he regretted the impact to him more. Immortals and deities didn't have the capacity to care for others. Would she be alone for eternity?

"Can you help her?" she asked.

"I am doing my best. My deal with your mate is dependent upon me succeeding. He gave me five days."

"If the magic of Hell can't cure her, can yours?"

"Not so far. I've tried traditional medicine" he motioned to the machines lining the perimeter of the room "and my magic."

"Poor girl," she murmured, recalling all her years of pain and misery with the brain tumor Wynn caused to expand. Her deal with Darkyn damned her, but also saved her life. "Is she demon?"

"Half-breed like Rhyn. Demon and Immortal. Mother is long dead, most likely one of the blood slaves. Darkyn was known for going through them like tissue paper."

The reminder of what her mate was made Deidre nauseous.

"At least I can save other women from that destiny," she said. "The mating bond is absolute, isn't it?"

"It is. Neither mate can have someone else on the side. Yours is more so. He's dependent upon you for blood, a condition that transcends the normal mating relationship."

She deliberated on this information. Darkyn was determined to keep her, determined enough that his insurance limited him more than her. He was serious about not losing.

Wynn was looking at her again, an odd light in his eyes. It made her uncomfortable.

"He was wise to turn you quickly," he said after a long silence. "He can't harm you now with the double-bond. Did the transition hurt?"

"He's never hurt me. Terrify me? Definitely."

Wynn's smile was fleeting. "I don't suppose you'll put in a good - or bad - word for me."

"No," she replied firmly. "Your deal is with him. You made your choices, Wynn."

"More than fair."

Deidre. The summons was quiet. It was accompanied by a vision of her chamber. She felt compelled to go there.

"I'll come back," she said. "Will you tell me if you need something to help her?"

"Without a doubt."

Deidre left, troubled, as she returned to her room. It didn't make sense that nothing could save the girl, or that Darkyn was capable of trying to. It meant he cared. Or he was obligated. She'd learned a lot lately about how obligation held more sway in the Immortal society than truth or emotion.

Her heart quickened as she entered her room. The sight of Darkyn's lean frame was enough for her blood to heat before his piercing gaze caught hers from across the room.

I am yours.

She hated him. She needed him. She couldn't navigate through the emotions.

Deidre approached unbidden and stood before him, wishing she understood him and their bond better. His black eyes saw through her; his cold features were expressionless. He scared her, and she touched him instinctively, wanting his cool energy to help calm her emotions.

"I'm sending you somewhere," he told her.

"What? Where?"

"On an emissary mission."

Surprised, she sought some sign he was testing her or baiting her again.

"You trust me to go somewhere without making a deal you can't live with?" she asked.

"Clever," he murmured. "You want something."

"I won't make any deals this trip if you teach me how when I return."

He considered. "Two conditions. One, what I teach you can never be shared. Two, there will be no official deals between you and me. Private deals only."

"Ones that can't be enforced, in case you lose?" she challenged. "You think I'll beat you eventually?"

"Insurance," he replied mockingly.

She rolled her eyes at him and dropped her hand.

"You've gotten brave, love."

"You like a fight, don't you?"

The light in his eyes was response enough. It made her heart race.

"Deal or no?" he asked.

"Deal."

"You'll be taking a message from me to them."

"Really?" She frowned. "What's the message?"

"You are."

Gabriel. Her first thought was that he was sending her to Death as a means of torturing her or at least, nailing home the point that he had won this round with Gabriel.

The slow smile she distrusted spread across Darkyn's face. Did he know what she thought? Was it so obvious?

She dropped her gaze.

"You will soon learn that those who lose deals with me are a desperate lot. They will see you as a target. Do you remember what I taught you about killing?"

She placed her hand on his heart. He remained relaxed despite giving her a loaded weapon then telling her to take the kill shot.

"To summon me, simply say my name," he added. Darkyn tipped her chin up to meet her gaze. "You think I'm sending you to him."

"It would be awkward," she said in a hushed voice.

"Then you'll have to trust me, won't you."

"You enjoy baiting me too much for me to trust you."

"So honest, so pure," he said.

"Don't mock me," she said, thinking about how Fate did the same. "I get it. This is your game. You don't lose. You'd send me to Gabriel on a silver platter to get your point across. I assume that's where I'm going."

"You'll find out."

Deidre wanted to deck him again. And cry. And run. She hated that he'd always known exactly what to say to get to her. From the moment he first offered her the deal that landed her in Hell, he read her.

Darkyn flicked a nail against the pad of his thumb. The blood ensnared her senses at once, compelling her attention to the maroon droplets. Her hunger demanded action. The wound healed, leaving the drops on his thumb. He pressed the pad to her lips. They parted instinctively, and she tasted him.

She closed her eyes and shuddered in pleasure. He'd worked her into a frenzy the night before by dribbling a similar amount of blood, enough to tease her without satisfying her. This time, the few drops quelled the hunger and her distress. It left her calm.

"When you're finished, call a portal," he instructed.

Her eyes opened. His attention was on a point behind her, and she turned to see a portal waiting.

Deidre's hand dropped from his chest. This had to be a test. He was sending her out and expecting her to return. Did he trust her or assume she knew better than to run?

She ran her tongue over her teeth to capture the last of his blood. She'd seen how hungry he was last night. He wasn't going to let her go for long, since she was his singular food source.

One of the yellow portals beckoned her. Deidre entered the shadow world and shivered, her exposed skin chilled. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Darkyn standing where she left him, hands clasped behind his back, watching her with the cold smile that told her there was more going on than she suspected.

The calm of his blood offering kept her uneasiness at bay as the portal behind her closed. She hurried to the one waiting for her and paused. He could be sending her anywhere.

To Gabriel.

At least, if she saw him, she could determine which parts of what she felt were real and which stemmed from the bond. Deidre drew a shaky breath and stepped through the portal.

She recognized the surroundings. The Immortals' stone fortress. She was in the middle of an unfamiliar, tall hallway. She heard the sound of a weapon scraping a scabbard behind her and turned.

Red tattoos flashed on the arms of the two Immortals in the hallway. She didn't recognize them from her short stay there. One had his sword raised, the other's was down. They scrutinized her.

"Rhyn," she said, uncertain who else to ask for.

"Wait here," one said. "No quick movements."

She nodded.

The second put his weapon away and darted off down another hallway. Deidre waited nervously, uncertain what to think about the Immortal staring at her. His sword lowered as the time grew on. The light in his eyes was like that in Wynn's, one she couldn't place. It was almost the fire of desire, yet too raw.

It made her uncomfortable.

"Fuck."

Deidre recognized the growl of the half-demon and faced him. Flanked by the Immortal she knew as Kiki and two more, Rhyn stood several meters away. The silver-eyed half-demon was tall and muscular, the air around him rippling with power. It was the opposite of Darkyn's, whose was subtle and calming. Rhyn's energy made her edgy.

"You've been gone, what? Three days? And you come back with a double-bond to someone new?" He shook his head. He motioned for the Immortal behind her to leave. "Does Gabe..."

Her sharp intake of breath stopped him.

"Double-bond," one of those behind Rhyn said. "What is a double-bond?"

"It's what the Dark One does when he doesn't want his mate disappearing on him," Rhyn said. "I sensed you arrive."

He approached and circled her, pausing behind her. Self-conscious in front of Gabriel's closest friend, Deidre faced him, tilting her head back to meet his liquid silver eyes.

"Did you say Darkyn is the Dark One?" Kiki asked.

"Looks that way," Rhyn replied. "No one else can turn a human into a demon, and only demons blood bind."

"He is," Deidre confirmed.

"I thought you were in Atlanta."

"It's a long story," she replied. "One Gabriel doesn't know and probably shouldn't for another few days."

"We match." Rhyn bared his teeth to display canines similar to Darkyn's that would lengthen when he was hungry.

"Mine don't retract," she said with a grimace.

"The teeth of a demoness don't. You left Gabe's human mate and came back a demon bound to Darkyn. He wasted no time in turning you and blood-binding you." Rhyn studied her for a moment. "What the fuck happened?"

Uncertain how to respond, Deidre laughed uncomfortably at the amount of bewilderment his question contained.

"Rhyn, care to share?" Kiki asked.

The half-demon looked over her head at the group behind her. He frowned. Deidre tried to figure out what it was she was supposed to say. She wanted to ask after Gabriel but didn't. She also wanted to step outside and see the forest. She missed nature in the time she'd been in Hell.

"We need to talk in private," Rhyn said for her ears only. "There's another issue you haven't figured out yet."

She frowned. Rhyn took her arm and started away.

"I'll let you know, Kiki," he called to his half-brother. "We're going to talk about demon shit."

"What? Rhyn, you can't –" Kiki objected.

"Later, Kiki."

Deidre didn't resist, uncertain why he looked grim suddenly. They didn't go far. He led her into a large study with a huge, brown leather couch near a dead hearth. She brightened at the sight of the comfortable seating. Rhyn released her and locked the door behind him then paced, rubbing his jaw.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned by his actions.

"You shitting me?" he returned. "You come back a demon and want to know what's wrong?"

She flushed.

"A demon of human origin. It's like Gabe being turned Immortal. You reek of Darkyn's power."

Deidre tucked her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, watching him pace.

"First. What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I don't know. Darkyn sent me. He said he had a message, and that I'm the message," she said. "If you don't know, then I'm not sure."

"Oh, I get the fucking messages."

"What are they?" she asked, puzzled.

"One, he's letting me know he's the Dark One. I'm assuming the transition happened recently. We didn't know. Two, this is a personal fuck-you, addressed to me from the Dark One. Three," he paused, studying her. "You. His mate. His human, blood bound mate."

"Why is that important to you?"

"No demon can waltz into the middle of my stronghold without being chopped to pieces. If you were a demon and his mate, you'd be missing your head. You're a human mate, or were originally, which means I can't hurt you. I'm the only Immortal who can walk into Hell. The last time I did it, I robbed him of a few prisoners he didn't want to lose. He's showing me he can do the same," Rhyn said. "There's no fucking chance of bringing you back, even if somehow you were to escape the mating bond."

"I know that," she replied. "He didn't hesitate to claim me once the marking appeared."

"Are you okay?" Rhyn's voice carried genuine concern.

"Sort of," she said. "He didn't hurt me, if that's what you're asking."

Rhyn didn't look convinced.

"I'm, uh..." she swallowed, tears blurring her vision. "Scared. Horrified. A demon."

"Yeah, there's no reversing that."

"Really?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"I guess I know that," she whispered. "He's determined to keep me."

"I see that. The good thing is that he can't hurt you now. The blood bond between demons is to ensure one of them doesn't get too hungry and bleed the other dry."

"Good to know," she mumbled. "He hasn't hurt me yet. But he doesn't lose, does he?"

Rhyn shook his head. "For someone like him... he never even bowed down to the Dark One. The bond creates more than dependency; it gives you a helluva lot of influence over him."

"I don't see it," she said with a snort.

"Trust me. The mating bond alone makes it easy for a woman to control her mate. Add a blood bond to it? You become the only person in the universe that can influence him. The other deities can't even do that."

She frowned. She didn't see that happening. Darkyn was always too far ahead of her, twisting her into knots to keep her in place.

"Talk," Rhyn ordered. He threw himself down in the seat across from her.

"Well..." Deidre sighed, sorting through her thoughts. She met his gaze, uncertain what to tell him.

"Gabriel doesn't know," he guessed and sat back.

"Not yet. At least, I don't think he does. There's a deal on the table," she explained, mind on Past-Death. "I'll start from the beginning. I, uh, made a deal with Darkyn a few days ago for him to remove my brain tumor. It seemed simple enough. He saves my life. In exchange, he keeps the tumor."

"But that didn't make you his mate."

"Indirectly it did. The tumor in my head had a soul in it. Past-Death's soul," Deidre continued. Her throat tightened as she spoke. "I guess she made a deal with Darkyn. He brought her back, and she gave him me."

Rhyn growled low in his chest.

"I made her a deal that expires in four days, thinking I could reverse the bond. I gave her a week to make Gabriel fall in love with her, or I get her soul. I thought if she was gone, the bond would reverse, return me to Gabriel," she said. "Darkyn calls the blood bond his insurance for when I win. I can't go back to Gabriel, even if I do win."

Rhyn was quiet, his gaze intense.

"There's more, but..." She shook her head, hands trembling. "Darkyn never loses."

"I wouldn't say he won. He had to sacrifice his freedom to keep you," Rhyn said. "It'll give you an advantage in deals with him."

She almost groaned. She'd signed away that advantage already. Another thought occurred to her as she thought about Katie, the half-demon's mate she met when last at the fortress.

"Rhyn, is any of what you feel when you become a mate real?" she asked. "The bond I shared with Gabriel. I mean, as soon as Darkyn's name was on my back, it shifted, like none of the emotions I felt for Gabriel were real... and now with the blood bond..."

"Gods. I'm the last person to ask this touchy-feely stuff," Rhyn said and rubbed his jaw again. "The bond brings you together. You still have to... make a relationship. One is physical, the other mental. They're both real."

"Gabriel and I didn't get that far. He kept pushing me away," she said. "Darkyn's been relentless in pursuing me."

"There's another reason for that," Rhyn said slowly. "Deidre, you can't be around normal mortals or Immortals for long or even really demons outside of Hell."

"Why?" she asked, fear spiraling through her. "Does something happen to me?"

"How do I say this..." he sighed. "My mother was a sex-demon. It's a sub-class of demons. You are, too."

"Meaning..."

"Meaning you might be one of them. Every man you cross will do what it takes to try to fuck you."

She gasped. "What? Why?"

"Why?" he echoed. "Because you're a sex-demon."

She stared at him. Rhyn rose and motioned her up. He crossed to a mirror and pulled her in front of him. She saw the same woman here as she did in Hell: sultry and sweet, beautiful of face with a body enhanced by the dark dress.

"You don't see it?" he asked.

"No."

"I'm dealing with enough shit," he muttered. "Trust me. You've got that vibe. Darkyn is relentless because of the fucked up double bond and whatever subclass of demon he decided to turn you into, which I'm guessing was a sex-demon. It's good for you. Might give you an advantage with him if you're willing to play the seduction game."

Deidre shook her head, not seeing this either. There were no advantages with Darkyn and she was the last person on the planet who would try to seduce anyone, especially a demon. Darkyn had to know this. Was this some sort of twisted sense of humor on his part?

They returned to the seating area. Rhyn grabbed an iPad off the desk. He considered her.

"I have to show you something," he started. "It's bad. But since he sent you, I want you to see it." He paused to pull up photographs on the screen. "Before a few months ago, the Immortals and demons had an understanding that the normal humans are off limits. Things have gone to shit fast, partly because I can't get the fucking Council to agree on anything." Rhyn snorted. "Darkyn recently decided to send his demons after human kids. They've been attacking schools all over the world. We're getting better at tracking them, but haven't been able to stop them." He handed the device to her.

Deidre almost dropped it at the pictures displayed. Horrified, she wasn't able to look away. The children were all elementary age, their dismembered bodies nothing but carnage. There were dozens of them.

This was what she was bound to for eternity, the monster behind all the evil in the world. Rhyn snatched the iPad as it slid from her fingers. She stared at the floor. Fate said she was a balance for the out-of-control demon, but how could she live with something like him?

"If you have any influence over him..." Rhyn prodded. "I'll make you a deal to stop this. Just let me know your terms."

"I can't make deals," she whispered. "Rhyn, I..." The images in her head were brutal. "I was terrified of Gabriel, knowing he was Death. This is something so far beyond what he was." She stood and paced anxiously, hugging herself.

"You're his mate, his representative. As much as I hate to do this, I need for you to help me fix this," Rhyn said. "It's been going on for two weeks, and it's getting worse. Redirect the violence at the Immortals. Human children are off-limits."

Deidre was silent, grappling with the issue and her emotions. Her chest was too tight for her to breathe deeply. What power did she have to do what Rhyn wanted?

She caught sight of her gaze in the mirror again and stared. Distraught, she was also clearly the mate of the Dark One. The only person who might influence him, based on what Fate and Rhyn believed.

She was beyond terrified of the power Darkyn held. What he was in their insulated world in the bedchamber was far removed from what he was outside. She'd accepted her place in his bed. How did she accept her destiny as his mate?

What part of her was able to live with not trying to help spare innocent children?

Claustrophobic, she started to panic.

"I, uh, I need to go," she said.

"Alright. If you need anything... I have no fucking clue if I can help, but ask." There was concern on Rhyn's face.

Deidre nodded, focused on calling a portal. It yawned open for her. She left, stopping in the shadow world to try to calm herself. She wasn't able to make an official deal with Darkyn to save the kids, and she had nothing to offer him. What the fuck did she do?

The portal to Hell glowed darkly. Deidre moved towards it, recalling the last time she'd crossed through it. Her eyes filled with tears, but she forced herself to do it.

It left her on the covered landing where Darkyn first brought her. It was where he told her she'd never leave Hell, where he'd first drawn her blood. The landing overlooked the parched desert surrounding the black fortress. The dual sub orbs were dim, casting a sickly light over Hell. She leaned against the waist-high wall.

This was her eternity. The only innocent soul in Hell. There had to be a greater purpose to all of this, a reason why she was trapped. A reason why she was the only light in a very dark place. Was it to help the innocent? To blunt the bloodlust of the Dark One? Was this her silver lining? If she didn't find one, she'd spend eternity weeping.

Her heart slammed into her chest at the thought of confronting the devil. With a deep breath, Deidre summoned him.

"Darkyn."

As before, he appeared instantly. She turned away from the desert and crossed her arms. He stood a few meters away, hands clasped behind his back. His black eyes scoured her features and lingered on her lips.

"Rhyn... showed me what the demons are doing to human kids," she started uncertainly.

"And?"

"They're just children!"

"The Dark One is not known for mercy or kindness," he said, amused. "The source of my magic is from the forbidden, the depraved. The death of innocents, the weakness of a man's honor, heart or soul."

"You've shown me mercy," she said, approaching him until they stood toe-to-toe. "What will it take to stop this now?"

"How strongly do you feel?"

"I'll play your game," she said firmly.

"The first lesson in making deals: make the terms yourself. Don't let anyone else determine them," he said. "For example. I'll do as you ask, if you can make it to our bedchamber by the count of five."

"I don't even know where it is from here!" she exclaimed.

"Then you lose before you begin."

Deidre stared at him. He stepped aside, out of the way to the corridor leading into the fortress.

"This is it? This is all you'll give me?" she asked, torn between fury and sorrow at the impossible challenge.

"Second lesson: you will do whatever it takes to win the deal."

"Like blood binding yourself for insurance," she said in frustration. "Or stripping Past-Death's power."

"Exactly."

She had to focus. There had to be a way. He'd told her she wasn't able to travel via portal when she was human. Yet she drew off his magic now. She was able to kill and call a portal from the human world.

"One."

Her gaze flew to him.

"Two."

Deidre bolted, silently willing a portal to appear as she sprinted into the fortress.

"Three."

A black cave yawned open before her. It was different than the other portals; there were no doors visible through this one, just a hole in the world. She flung herself through it, not caring what waited for her on the other side.

Deidre emerged in her room, a full second before Darkyn did. It took a moment for her to register the truth.

"Omigod! I did it!" she breathed. She hurried to him. "You lose. You have to stop hurting them." Praying she hadn't missed some term of the deal, she waited for his reaction. For a long moment, Darkyn was quiet. Deidre's despair began to form anew, along with tears. She started to shake, unable to bear the idea of more children dying or living with the creature behind it.

His cold smile scared her, until he spoke. "Done."

"Is this your insurance plan where you don't follow through because it's not binding?"

"I always execute my terms," he replied. "There will be no more attacks on human schools."

She waited another few seconds for a catch before letting herself believe him. Relief made the tears she'd been holding begin to fall. Deidre reached up to him and fluttered kisses across his face and neck. She nuzzled him there, smelling the blood so close to the surface. It made her hungry to taste him.

"Lesson three. If you win or lose, let it be on purpose," he said.

"You let me win?"

He chuckled as she nibbled timidly at his neck. "You don't need an invitation to drink, love."

At the amusement in his voice, she flushed. She nudged his chin aside but wasn't certain about biting him. His fangs were lengthening, and he lowered his head, nudging her back. Darkyn rested his hands on her hips and drew her into his body.

"I beat you," she whispered into the shared space between them. "Even if you let me. I'll take it." She pushed his chin aside with more force and kissed his neck before closing her eyes and letting her fangs sink into him.

He growled in response. Deidre drank until she grew sleepy. She released him at his nudge.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. "Since you are demon now, there is pleasure in it for you. If you are pleased enough about your victory, you will grant me leave to show you."

She hesitated. "Just once?" she ventured.

He locked one arm around her in response, the other holding her head. His canines were four times the length of hers. Before she could tell him she'd changed her mind, sharp pain penetrated her neck. Deidre clutched at the material of his shirt. After the initial shock, she felt the pleasure, warm and hot, burning and mixing with the pain. It raced through her body, lulling her into a strange trance of heightened senses while he drank.

When he withdrew, she rested against him. She still didn't quite trust he'd keep his word, but she prayed with every ounce of her soul that he did.

"Why did you let me win?" she asked.

"Because it pleased me to do so."

"Seriously?"

"The humans mean more to you than they do to me. It was an extremely easy victory for me." He bit her hard. "You are happy enough I no longer need to dull the pain."

She shuddered at the pleasure-pain.

"I said once, didn't I?" she murmured.

"You only have to agree once."

Damn unwritten terms. She didn't think she'd ever win with him, but she was thrilled knowing she'd done something right. For once.

In Hell. In a deal with her mate, who just happened to be the devil.

With the hum of their bonds and the satiation of the blood exchange, she ventured a look at him. His head was bowed near hers, eyes closed, as if he was...pleased to share the moment with her. Deidre touched her cheek to his and reached up with one hand to his other cheek. She was perplexed by this creature. He was yielding now, as he'd been last night. As if sensing she'd noticed, he straightened and moved away, breaking contact to stand a few feet away. The intimate moment was gone, replaced by the tension that always filled the space between them.

"Did the half-breed receive my message?" he asked.

"All of them," she replied. "He also said I need to be careful in the human world. Is there something wrong with me?"

The cunning look on Darkyn's face did nothing to reassure her.

"Lesson four. Deals made while the negotiator is distracted or emotional are easier to win," he said. "I only enhanced what appeal you already had. It'll make it easier for you to deal with others, and it's no sacrifice for me to want to fuck you every time we meet."

"Why did you have to do that?" She flushed, humiliated. "I take it the distraction won't work on you in our private deals."

He flicked a fingernail against his thumb in response, commanding her complete attention. Deidre groaned as the hunger returned.

"Does it work on you?" Agitated, she bit her thumb.

"I can control the hunger." He smiled and waited.

Deidre paced for a moment before caving. She needed contact with him as much as the blood. Leaning into him, she sighed when he placed his thumb at her lips. The calm spread through her again. He licked her finger free of blood.

"You are already a distraction for me," he said gruffly.

Triumph fluttered through her at the admission. Maybe Rhyn was right; maybe she had more power than she knew.

"You should've thought of that before you blood bound me and turned me into a sex-demon," she retorted softly. "I guess that's my insurance, isn't it?"

"I find it entertaining that you were willing to do whatever it took for humans you never knew, but those who knew you weren't willing to do the same," he said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I offered Wynn and Past-Death deals for your safety. Neither was willing to bargain with me for your life." He sounded pleased once more.

Disturbed, Deidre withdrew from his embrace. She scoured his features.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, her upbeat mood fading.

"Why do you think?"

"I don't know. I don't expect them or anyone else to make deals with you for me," she said, hurt as much by his words as the thought that there was no one outside of Hell who wished her well. She stared into the hearth.

"You are true to your nature. I can assess that you would make deals for them."

"Why did you have to ruin this, Darkyn? I did something good. Why couldn't you let me have my victory?" she whispered.

"I'm closing the doors around you, until there's only one that's open."

Deidre looked up at him.

"When you accept that, you can celebrate what victories you have. Your victory today hasn't gone anywhere," he added. "I always keep my terms."

He took her arm. She pushed him away, upset. The demon lord gripped her more tightly and wrapped her in his arms. Deidre strained then sighed, letting her head drop back against his shoulder. His cool magic calmed her thoughts. He nudged her head aside, and she yielded, albeit unhappily.

"Fight me, love. You want to. I feel it," he said.

"You people have the lowest standards when it comes to quality of life."

"The spirit of a human and the bloodlust of a demon."

"Bloodlust? No. I mean, I only want your blood. I think," she said, puzzled. "Don't I? Oh, god. I'm not going to want to drink the blood of others am I?"

"Only mine. Such is the nature of a blood bond."

"You hurt my feelings, Darkyn."

"Good. You are too trusting. What I do will help you survive."

It wasn't the first time she'd heard such a thing, but it sounded far worse coming from the devil than it had Wynn.

"I'm being summoned. You can fight me later," he said and released her. He strode towards a waiting portal.

Deidre watched him. It really did hurt to think that Darkyn outright tested others and they failed when it came to her. Of course, he chose two of the most selfish people she knew. She wanted to think that Gabriel wouldn't turn his back on her so quickly.

In hindsight, she really didn't know any of them. She wasn't an Immortal or deity. She held no sway in what happened or played no larger part in their twisted doings.

In spite of that, hope flickered through her. She'd helped Rhyn stop Darkyn's demons. Darkyn himself had shown some signs of being affected by her, perhaps not as much as she liked, but more than she ever expected.

Maybe she could make a silver lining here, protecting the innocent.

Breakfast was on the magic obsidian tray next to the bed. She wolfed it down, satisfied she was still able to eat real food in addition to drinking from Darkyn.

## Day Four

## Chapter four

The next morning, Deidre found herself at the wall overlooking the red deserts of Hell. The air was hot and dry, the two suns too dim to shed much light into the black fortress. Any thought she had of trying to make it here faded whenever she saw the desert or thought about how Darkyn manipulated her.

She was scared again. The pictures Rhyn showed her wouldn't leave her thoughts, even if Darkyn had agreed to stop the slaughter. He would do it again. It's what he was.

She started to panic.

Deidre drew a deep breath. She missed nature. Real nature, not the barren landscape of Hell. She glanced around her, wondering what would happen if she just... left. Even for a short time to try to relax. Darkyn would find her no matter what, but she had the urge to see trees. Water. Grass. Anything familiar. . She absently reached for the hourglass and realized she'd left it on her nightstand.

She tried not to get her hopes up that a portal out of Hell would appear. Stilling her mind, she calmed herself. The portals didn't answer her at all when she was upset.

It opened at her request. Deidre was startled. She expected Darkyn to have severed her ability to leave. Glancing down at herself, she decided there was only one logical place for her to start.

Deidre stepped into the shadow world and paused. No one stopped her. Darkyn didn't appear to force her to return. She crossed the shadow world to the glowing portal that would take her where she wanted to go.

The mate of the Dark One does whatever the fuck she pleases, Darkyn had claimed. She was almost surprised to see he was serious.

She stepped into her own apartment and stopped. It smelled horrible, probably because of the blood-soaked second bedroom. Otherwise, it looked the way she left it, except that the air conditioning was off.

Deidre looked around, struck by how different the place she lived for two years felt. The pile of mail she left on her desk was still there, the living room neat and quiet. With the rest of her life in disarray, she didn't expect her apartment to look... normal. Like it was just waiting for her and her boyfriend to come home.

One choice. She'd made one choice, and she'd never come home to this place again. She crossed to her desk, where a red journal sat. In it was her bucket list, a list of things she hoped to do before she died from the terminal brain tumor she no longer possessed.

Now, she had an eternity to fulfill the list. An eternity in Hell at the side of the Dark One.

Deidre set down the journal, needing to distract her thoughts before she started to panic again. She sat down on her couch, recalling the nights she spent watching television after work. This world had been all she knew three weeks ago. Now, she felt out of place, like she was sitting in a display at a furniture store. Nothing in the living room was hers.

She went to her bedroom and pushed the door open. It was as she left it. She'd packed her favorite clothes to take with her to Wynn's a few days before she ended up in Hell. She had a ton left and began sifting through her drawers for jeans. She couldn't walk down the streets of Atlanta in her Hell gown. She was going to draw enough attention as it was being a sex-demon.

Demon.

Deidre still couldn't fathom that she'd been turned into some sort of supernatural creature. She paused to look in the mirror. Yes, she looked different. But she didn't have horns or a tail or anything. Just her little fangs and the odd presence she found subtle but which apparently had a staggering affect on men.

Shaking her head, she pulled out a t-shirt and jeans, tossing them on the bed. She reached for the band around her neck securing the dress.

The sound of someone in the hallway made her freeze. The footsteps were soft, but it sounded like more than one person. Her thoughts went to Darkyn but her instincts warned her it wasn't him. She didn't fully understand the demon senses that Darkyn indicated were part of her now. But if they told her she was in danger, she was going to listen.

She tiptoed to the closet and slid inside, peeking through the slats of the door. Two large men entered. Red tattoos flashed on their bodies, indicating they were Immortals. They were dressed more like Gabriel than the Immortals she met at Rhyn's.

Death dealers.

The demon side of her recognized what they were, even if the human side didn't. The idea that Gabriel's people were there brought confusion. If he knew she was there, wouldn't he come himself? Her instincts were at full alarm, but she didn't understand what she had to fear from Gabriel's death dealers.

Unless more than Harmony had betrayed Gabriel. She recalled how his former right hand dealer had turned traitor. Deidre sank back into the closet. She began to steady her breathing and focus, so she could draw a portal when they were gone.

One of them entered the bedroom, cold eyes taking in the surroundings. He walked farther in, appearing to be listening.

Deidre held her breath and hoped her heartbeat wasn't as loud to him as it was to her. He neared the closet, and she pushed herself back into the clothing. He moved faster than she was able to follow. The crack of the wooden door registered a short second before his hand gripped her throat. She was hauled out of the closet and tossed on the bed.

"Found her!" the death dealer called.

"Anyone else?"

The death dealer looked at her. "You alone?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. His gaze lingered then went over her body. The familiar light appeared.

"Kin, Anyone else?" the other dealer asked again.

"No," Kin answered.

"I'll let Harmony know."

Deidre's hope sank. So they weren't there on Gabriel's behalf but on Harmony's. Deidre had no bad interactions with the death dealer, but she suspected anyone who betrayed Gabriel wouldn't be interested in helping her.

"Up. Come on," Kin said, motioning to the hallway.

Deidre rose and crossed her arms, walking ahead of him into the living area. A portal was open, and the second death dealer was waiting. Deidre's heart beat hard. She could summon Darkyn, though she feared his reaction to her leaving more than what these people would do to her.

Kin stood right behind her, way too close for her comfort. One of his hands brushed her hip then returned.

"Sexy little thing, isn't she?" he murmured. He walked around her, trailing his hand around her midsection.

Deidre tried to ignore him, afraid reacting would only draw more attention to herself. He touched her hair and the sensitive skin around her neck. She flinched away as his fingers rested on the clasp of her dress.

"Fangs?" the other dealer asked, frowning. He was older, in his mid-thirties, and the light took longer to appear in his eyes than it had the younger man.

Kin's hand rested against the bare skin at the small of her back then continued south. Deidre stepped away.

"Hey," Harmony said, stepping through the portal. "You got her."

"You didn't tell me she's fucking hot," Kin said. He took Deidre's arm and pulled her against him, rubbing his hips against her backside.

Panic was beginning to set in. Darkyn gave her the power to seduce without the knowledge on how to turn off its effects, if it was even possible. The second dealer was moving closer, and she couldn't free herself from the thick arm wrapped around her.

She strained against him. He snatched her neck and squeezed until her ability to breathe was hindered. Deidre went still.

"Stop it," Harmony said. "Something's not right here." She looked Deidre up and down with assessing green eyes. "Turn her around."

Without releasing her neck, Kin spun her and locked the arm around her body again. Deidre felt Harmony's light touch as the death dealer brushed her hair aside.

"Shit," the dealer murmured. "This isn't the right girl. You were supposed to grab Gabe's mate, not Darkyn's."

"Darkyn's?" Kin asked, uneasiness replacing the glow in his eyes.

"Get rid of her," Harmony ordered. "Take her soul and brain. Darkyn can read either to find out who grabbed her. We'll make it look like the Immortals did it."

"Can I have a little fun first?"

"I don't give a shit but make it fast. Darkyn can track her. If she's here, it's because she's allowed to be here."

"I'm due back in two minutes," Deidre voiced.

"Even has a sexy little purr," Kin said, lust crossing his features. "I only need one."

He dragged her by the neck down the hallway. Deidre choked. He threw her on the bed again. Her eyes watered, and she coughed. The death dealer stripped off his shirt and weapons to display a muscular body.

Deidre rolled off the bed, darting for the hallway. He snatched her around the waist and laughed, dragging her onto the bed with him. She struggled. The dealer slapped her hard enough to daze her. He placed a knife at her neck. It bit into her skin, and she gasped, afraid to move. Kin shoved her knees a part and yanked up her dress. His face glowed with frenzied need while he worked quickly to unzip his pants.

She whispered the first name that came to mind.

"Darkyn."

Deidre sucked in a deep breath, praying the demon lord answered the summons.

"One of Harmony's men."

Kin froze at the inhuman growl. Deidre squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to see Darkyn response and afraid his anger might be directed at her.

"Did he see your markings, love?" Darkyn asked.

"No," the dealer said, scrambling off her. "My apologies, my lord."

Deidre released her breath as the knife left. She opened her eyes. Darkyn's dark gaze was on her, not the dealer. She didn't feel him rifling through her thoughts, but she sensed it was what he did. Her blood stirred at the sight of his lean frame. Smaller than the dealer, he nonetheless radiated quiet power. And the sweet scent of his blood made her gums itch.

The demon lord glanced at the dealer and tilted his head to the side. The death dealer snatched his shirt and left quickly.

Darkyn held out a hand to her. Deidre took it, shaken by the experience. She met his gaze then looked away quickly. His scent and warmth only made her panic increase. Deidre braced herself for his violent reaction or words. The demon lord released her hand, silent, with her standing before him. He lowered his head and nudged hers aside, nipping at her neck. His growl turned to a purr.

Surprised by the intimate motion that seemed meant to comfort her, Deidre glanced up at him before nuzzling his neck. The scent of his blood made her mouth water, and she breathed him in.

"You're not angry at me?" she whispered.

"If I didn't want you leaving, I'd close the portals," he replied. "You summoning me shows you've begun to accept your place, love. If anything, I am satisfied, or will be, after I deal with the death dealers."

"What will you do to them?" she asked.

"Do you want to know?"

"They didn't hurt me," she said, not wanting to think about what he planned to do.

Darkyn touched her neck. She flinched. His fingers came away with blood.

"Stay here." He stepped away from her and strode through the doorway. He closed the doorway behind him.

Deidre's insides shook. She sat on the bed, panicking silently. At any minute, she'd hear him tear them apart and then, she'd freak out.

No sounds came from the living area. He had almost been kind, or at least, as kind as he was capable of being. She waited, wishing she'd never come. Wishing she'd gone somewhere other than here.

She waited for Darkyn to return but was too scared of what he was capable of doing to open the door and see the damage.

## Chapter Five

Deidre. The summons came.

She stood, terrified of what she'd find when she went to the living room. Granted, she hadn't heard anything, but she knew Darkyn well enough to know he didn't plan on leaving anyone alive.

Deidre hugged herself and padded down the hallway, her heart flipping in her chest. She was expecting to see some gruesome scene like that in the second bedroom caused by Darkyn's demons a week ago or what he'd done to his own demons who tried to drink her blood in Hell.

What she saw was worse.

"Gabriel," she breathed.

Death was a dark, towering, muscular figure in the living area of her apartment, clothed in black and wearing an expression that mirrored what she felt. He was armed but hadn't yet replaced the trench coat she cost him soon after they met. His dark eyes swept over her, lingering at her neck, where her wound had healed with Darkyn's power.

"Deidre?" he faced her fully. "You're alive."

She nodded, unable to speak. Her heart was breaking again or maybe, her hope crumbling. She wasn't certain what to feel: angry at Darkyn for setting her up or sorrow at facing the mate she'd never have.

Gabriel was speechless for a long moment.

"What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

She jumped at the harsh words. She glanced at Darkyn, who was still. Silent. Watching. She fought the urge to cross to him. This felt like another of his tests or maybe, his way of closing another door.

Gabriel's eyes were on her.

"I, um, made a deal with Darkyn. I went to Hell and..." she drifted off. She crossed her arms, close to panicking. First the death dealers attacking her, now Gabriel.

"...had the tumor removed which happened to be Past-Death's soul. Darkyn brought Past-Death back, fulfilling their mystery-deal, and you were at the mercy of Darkyn," Gabriel finished for her.

She nodded. "As his mate."

"His mate." His disbelief was clear.

He started towards her. Deidre skirted away, placing the recliner between them. Darkyn had tensed at Gabriel's' movement. Though the demon lord didn't move from his spot, she was afraid of causing any sort of confrontation between them.

"I just want to see the mating marks. That's it," Gabriel said.

She hesitated and glanced at Darkyn. He didn't move.

She nodded at Gabriel.

"You okay?" Gabriel asked in a hushed voice.

Another nod.

Gabriel stretched towards her slowly. Deidre braced herself, hoping not to feel the warm energy of his magic. She didn't feel ready for it yet. It was hard enough for her to stand before him, knowing they could've been together.

He took her arm with one of the hands that had explored every part of her body not two weeks before. He tugged her out from behind the chair then turned her gently. He pushed her hair over one shoulder, and his hands dropped. No warm magic drifted through her. Was she glad or upset?

"Gods, Darkyn," he muttered, astonished.

Deidre looked at the demon lord. Darkyn's eyes were on Gabriel.

"I win this round," Darkyn said, a faint smile on his face.

She recalled how much he loved to conquer. Right now, he was savoring a victory.

"Double bond. You weren't about to take a chance that you lose her," Gabriel said, sounding baffled.

Gabriel turned her to face him again. Deidre looked up at him, trembling. She couldn't decipher what he had to be feeling. He seemed mainly angry.

His attention fell again to the blood on her neck, caused when one of his death dealers attacked her.

"Tell me Darkyn did that to you, and I'll fucking destroy him," he said.

Deidre shook her head, a smile slipping free. He cared. As much as he tried not to show her, he really did. She wished she'd realized that a few days earlier, before it was too late to matter.

She'd tried to hide her fangs from him, but smiling brought his attention to them. She pressed her lips together for a moment.

"One of your death dealers attacked me," she told him.

"What?"

"I came here to... visit," she said with a quick glance at Darkyn. "They found me."

"Followed her," Darkyn corrected. "Your doing, Gabriel?"

"Of course not," Gabriel snapped.

"Harmony was with them," Deidre added.

"The bitch betrayed me to you, Darkyn. Which means this could be your doing," Gabriel pointed out.

"The funny thing about traitors," Darkyn replied. "You can't ever really trust them. Harmony was granted access to use Hell to go to your underworld. I can assure you if she's found going through my portals again, she'll be sent straight to me."

Deidre's eyes drifted to Darkyn in a sense of longing. As much as she hated herself for feeling it, she needed his touch to calm her.

"How many were here?" Gabriel asked her.

"Two," she replied. "And Harmony."

"They hurt you," he said, lifting her chin to see the blood.

"Yes," she said. "Darkyn rescued me from them. He has the two I think."

Gabriel faced the demon lord. Darkyn stepped out of the corner where he stood and Deidre grew edgy, fear fluttering through her. The two were tense enough to worry her that they meant to fight.

"There were two who attacked my mate," the demon lord said. "I'm taking the dealer who hurt her." He paused. "My... spies report that you can't keep dealers and have no idea what's going on in the underworld. The other dealer you can have."

"This sounds like a favor," Gabriel said, frowning.

"It is."

"What do you want in return?"

"Harmony. When you find her."

Deidre glanced at Darkyn in puzzlement. Why would he want the dealer behind those who hurt her? A strange sense went through her, one she might think was jealousy. How insane was she to be worried about Darkyn drinking the blood of another woman?

"By letting them attack you, Harmony made a personal affront to the Dark One," Gabriel explained. "I can't imagine that will go well for her."

"What does that mean?" Deidre asked uncertainly.

"I imagine an eternity of punishment as only the Dark One can devise. Same for the dealer who hurt you today."

"But I'm okay. He didn't hurt me," she said, looking at Darkyn with renewed fear. "An eternity? For one mistake?" She couldn't fathom the idea. The reminder of what her mate was left her trembling harder.

"Even I won't go to bat for him," Gabriel said. "Either of them. Mates are sacred."

"But it's my fault," she said. "Darkyn, I never should've come here. I don't want him paying for something I did."

"He will pay for drawing your blood," the demon lord growled in a tone that made her jump. "Anyone who raises a hand to my mate also raises a hand to me and will be dealt with accordingly."

"For once, I agree with Darkyn," Gabriel said.

Deidre was quiet, troubled. The two deities were bristling. She sensed it was because of her. Were they talking in their heads to one another? She couldn't tell, except that the tension in the room was increasing.

"Has he hurt you?" Gabriel asked, looking at her once more.

"No," she replied. Her distress was rising with their tension. Darkyn motioned to her.

Deidre crossed to him quickly, almost relieved. She leaned into his body. Sensing her anxiety, Darkyn rested a hand on her hip. His cool energy worked through her, calming her. She sighed and breathed in the scent of his warm skin and the lingering, faint smell of blood.

"Agreed," Gabriel said. "Harmony for the dealer you have."

"I'll have him brought to the shadow world and summon you," Darkyn said. His low growl vibrated against her.

Deidre twisted her head to see Gabriel. Tense and rigid, he was watching her with no small amount of emotion in his features.

"You don't deserve to spend your life in Hell," he said, pacing. "Gods, if I could send her home with that demon in your place, I -"

"Gabriel!" she exclaimed, startled by his bitter emotion.

"Would you consider a trade, Darkyn?" Gabriel asked.

"She did what she did because she loves you, Gabriel," Deidre said. She moved away from Darkyn to stand in front of Gabriel, searching his gaze. She wasn't certain how he could say such a thing about the woman who gave up everything for him. Deidre had a reason to despise Past-Death but Gabriel... he was too good for such an emotion.

"After all she did to you, how can you say this?" he demanded, glaring down at her. "She'll be lucky if I let her survive the day."

"I was angry at her," Deidre admitted. "Maybe I still am. But you can't kill her! She deserves a chance."

"To what? Turn on me again? To make my life hell?" Gabriel shook his head.

"To have a second chance with you," Deidre answered softly.

"I knew something was wrong. Her story just didn't make sense." He looked away, towards the window, hands on his hips.

"When you thought I was dying, you weren't willing to take a chance," Deidre added sadly.

"Deidre, I –"

"No, wait. You weren't, Gabriel. You did exactly what she did. You hurt me to protect yourself," Deidre pushed forward with what she needed to say. "I had to make a choice without knowing what would happen or even if you would be there for me in the morning."

He was quiet.

"I don't want you to apologize, Gabriel," she said with a sigh. "I want you to see what I do. You both made selfish choices. You both have a chance to make it right."

"And leave you in Hell with him?"

"I made a choice, too. I chose to live, no matter what the consequences. That path lies in a direction I never would've expected. But I accept that, Gabriel. There's a greater purpose than myself. You and she never understood that, when it came to caring for someone else. You have that chance now."

He studied her.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is..." she drifted off.

"You're breaking up with me," he said, smiling faintly.

"Oh, god," she mumbled with a look at Darkyn. She sensed he demon's imperceptible tension rise. "Deidre gave up everything to be with you. You weren't willing to do that for me. Maybe you can set aside your pride for her."

"You're too nice to be involved with any of us."

"The only innocent soul in Hell, I've heard," she said and rolled her eyes.

"If Darkyn ever, ever hurts you, you have a place to go."

"Thank you, Gabriel." She wasn't entirely convinced yet she wouldn't need the open invitation. Gabriel was disturbed. She wanted to cry again. Gabriel made her heart flutter; Darkyn made it fly.

The demon lord was gazing at her intently. Deidre held his gaze, wishing she knew the right answer to anything. A double-bond couldn't be broken, but did she want it to be? Yesterday, she saw the power she could have to help people from Hell.

Today, she had left, because the idea of eternity in the red desert with a creature incapable of caring for her was too much for her to bear. Standing between the men who could claim her as a mate at some point in the past week, she was caught in the need to taste Darkyn and the desire to have the love of an Immortal whose heart was never hers to start out with.

"We're done here," the Dark One said to Gabriel. "Send my regards to your mate."

Gabriel was still for a moment. A portal appeared behind him, and he left without another word.

Deidre watched the portal close.

"Come," Darkyn said.

He scared her. He probably always would, but she went to him. Deidre stopped only when they were toe-to-toe and leaned into him, needing the heat and solidness of his body to quiet her distress. She was ten seconds from fleeing. She nuzzled his neck, the scent of his blood intoxicating enough that her body relaxed in response. Darkyn nudged her in return, assuring her he wasn't angry. She was shaking from the experiences in her apartment.

"Why did you choose to come here?" he asked in a measured tone.

Deidre moved away from him. "I don't know."

"You do."

"I... I guess I keep hoping when I walk out of my apartment next time, things will be normal."

Darkyn trailed her. She leaned back against a counter. He planted a hand on either side of her, dark eyes piercing. She swallowed hard. His rugged features were unreadable.

"You know that's not the case." His tone was neither harsh nor teasing. Factual. The same way he wore down her resistance before.

"I know," she whispered. "Are you angry?"

"What reason do you think I have to be angry?" He tilted his head in a sign of genuine curiosity.

"That I left. That I came here. That I want to... to reset things. That I still have..." she stopped.

"... feelings for Gabriel."

She nodded.

"You want him. You need me. It's not a competition," he said simply. "As for the rest, you are working through the human stages of grief. But you've started to accept your fate." Darkyn nudged her head aside. "I'm hungry, not angry."

Deidre's body grew warm from the inside out as he nuzzled her neck, preparing to bite her. This time, she felt his fangs pierce her neck and jerked. He wasn't trying to numb the pain. The brief pain turned quickly into pleasure intense enough that she began panting, her hands roaming his body. He caught her wrists and pinned them behind her, more interested in feeding. When he lifted his head, her body was roaring with need. She strained against him.

"You see why demons love pain?" he whispered. Chuckling, he pushed her head away as she tried to reach his neck. "Now, show me you need me."

Darkyn kissed her, hot, hard and demanding. She struggled to reach him, even if only to touch his skin or for her little fangs to graze his neck. He overpowered her easily and maneuvered her down the hallway to her bedroom, stripping her and tossing her onto the bed in one move. He followed, and Deidre reached for him. The feel of the hot skin of his chest against hers made her groan.

"Play, love," Darkyn growled, nipping her hard.

Uncertain what possessed her – beyond pure emotion – she complied. Deidre fought him for a taste, a kiss, soon breathing hard from effort as he grappled with her, teased her with nips and kisses, and dribbled single drops of blood over her lips. He didn't numb the pain this time, and it drove her mad with need.

A short time later, when she was too exhausted to move, she lay still and silent on her side. Darkyn drank more from her than before, leaving her lightheaded. With her belly full of his blood and her body worn out by the rough sex, she couldn't remember being more content.

He leaned away from her neck but nipped her collarbone down to her shoulder. She shivered.

"There is nothing I will do to you that you cannot handle now that you're a demon." He wrapped an arm around her, securing her body against his. "You will not come back here, Deidre."

Deidre opened her eyes and shifted her head back to see his face.

"What do you mean?" she whispered. "To the apartment or my world?"

"Apartment."

"I understand," she murmured. It wasn't her home anymore. Still, she felt a sense of loss. The man in whose arms she lay was not only her husband by Immortal and demon laws but the Dark One who turned her into a demon.

"You're still fighting it." This time, he was amused. She knew why; it was a futile fight.

"You terrify me," she replied. "I didn't ask for any of this. What should I feel?" Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she ducked her head to hide them from Darkyn. "Why did you make me face Gabriel today?"

"Curiosity."

"You were tormenting me."

"Your fate lies with me. I wanted to see what you would do when confronted with the man you thought you were going to return to," he replied.

"Cruel."

"Closure."

"Closure," she repeated. "Another door closed." Deidre pushed herself up to see his face.

"A battle is only truly won when the opponent believes he's been beaten," he said. "You were forced to admit it. You were forced to let go."

Deidre sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, pink hair falling down around her. She didn't move from Darkyn's body.

"There are so many moments where I don't think I can do this," she said. "You can't understand that or how I feel. You never will."

"I am a survivor," he corrected her in a growl. "I do not feel like a human, but I know what it is to survive."

"How do you survive a life and a world that's so... foreign?" she rested her temple against her knee.

"Simple," he said. He sat, his warmth surrounding her once more. With his hair mussed and his youthful features, he didn't look like the devil she knew him to be. "It's the same key that got you into Hell."

"My tumor?"

"To bring people to Hell, I uncover their weakness and I exploit it. What did I exploit to get you to Hell?"

She was quiet for a moment.

"Hope," she murmured.

"Hope," he agreed. "I gave you what you were looking for. A silver lining."

Her eyes flew up to him at the words Fate had spoken to her.

"You read my mind a lot," she said.

"I rarely stop."

"That's really not..." she sighed, sensing he'd provoke her, if she let him. "Did you have a silver lining to survive?"

"My ambition is far different than yours."

"You wanted to rule Hell."

"And the mortal world."

She shivered again. Fate's words returned to her. With their faces inches a part, they assessed each other.

"I won't let you hurt my world," she said.

"You can't stop me."

"But I'm the only one who has a chance to try."

A slow smile spread across Darkyn's face. It scared her, and she saw his fangs grow.

"You can beg me," he said and kissed her hard enough to rob her of breath. "And fight me." Another kiss, this one harder. "And bleed for me. If you satisfy me, I might consider whatever you ask of me, but I will never willingly spare your world."

Deidre stopped his next kiss by placing her hand on his heart. Darkyn didn't back down, and the light of lust flared in his gaze.

"You are the only one I'd ever try to kill," she whispered.

"I'm the only one you never could kill, even if you used all my power against me," he replied. "You are my mate. It's not possible."

"You're bluffing," she said, searching his face.

"Am I?"

She couldn't tell, but she doubted it. Anger stirred within her at the satisfaction on his face. He was serious about destroying the mortal world. If he was half as creative at torturing people and planning his battles as he was in bed, he was more than capable of doing it.

"We are nothing alike," she said.

"I am what I am. You are what you are. Your purity and my depravity. It will make eternity intriguing." He leaned forward to kiss her once more, his fangs fully extended.

Deidre pushed him away. The demon side of her was always turned on by him, the human side of her determined not to let him do anything to her world. Before he could start another round of rough sex on his terms, she leaned into him, using her body to press him to the bed. Darkyn didn't resist. His hands roamed her body, his long nails leaving trails of blood down her skin. They healed fast and brought exquisite little pricks of pleasure.

She bit his neck harder than she had before, and he chuckled.

"Now you're ready to play," he assessed. "Drink deep, love. What I plan on doing to you would kill a demon ten times over."

Anger burned in her blood. Deidre did as he said and fed long, prepared to put up an honest fight this time. Her fear was tamed by fury. No part of her would let Darkyn hurt her world. Ever. No matter what the cost to her. She'd show him she wasn't afraid to back down in bed or anywhere else.

## Day Five

## Chapter Six

Deidre. She frowned, not recognizing the voice. Darkyn said nothing about leaving Hell after they returned from her apartment. She hesitated, though, not wanting to walk into another trap of Harmony's death dealers. Darkyn wore her out, and when she'd woken, she was alone.

On her way to see Zamon, she stepped into an empty hallway before trying to call a portal. She saw someone waiting for her in the center of the in-between world and recognized Rhyn. At ease with the half-demon friend of Gabriel, she entered the shadowy land. He waited for the portal behind her to close.

"Thought I'd check up on you," he started. "Figured you had to make a deal that broke bad for you."

"Um, no. Why?" she asked curiously.

"Five minutes after you left, he called off the attacks." Rhyn eyed her. "I don't want you to hurt yourself to make a deal that benefits me. I'll make a deal with him first."

Deidre grinned. With a whoop, she twirled in the middle of the shadow world.

"So you did do something," he said, waiting.

"I think so," she replied. "I basically asked him to stop."

"Just like that."

She blushed, smile on her face.

"This is the creature that nearly wiped out the planet and the human race, who's building an Army of Souls to make a second go at it, who has eaten more people than you'll ever know, even if you live forever, and who's got the largest source of power of any deity," Rhyn said. "You asked him not to kill a few kids, at the request of the half-breed he fucking hates, and he just agreed."

"It's purely on his terms," she added. "Why he chose to agree, I don't know. I think..." She was pensive for a moment. "No, I have no idea. I've been trying to figure him out for the past few days and have no clue. I didn't know what to do after you showed me those pictures, Rhyn. I knew I had to try. I can't out-deal him. I can't lie to him. I can't manipulate him. All I could do was ask. Maybe he's got something worse planned. I don't know why he agreed."

Rhyn studied her. "I think I do."

"I'm all ears."

"You'll figure it out," he said. He held out something to her. "I brought this, in case you needed a negotiation tool to use to protect yourself from him."

She accepted the small vial. It was the size of her thumb and filled with blood.

"A little birdie in my spy network fills me in on shit going on down there from time-to-time," he started. "Past-Death said Darkyn kept Wynn, and the birdie told me awhile ago the reason I think he did. Darkyn's daughter?"

Deidre nodded.

"That is the solution." He raised his eyes at the vial. "Not enough for him to duplicate, but enough for you to make a deal."

"What is it?" she asked.

"My mate's blood."

She met his gaze, surprised.

"She has an anomaly that makes her immune to young and old Immortal magic, all the way back to the Ancients. Whatever my half-brother did to her, that should fix it," he explained. "Consider it a thank you. Use it how you will. If you need the negotiation tool, use it. If you want to use it elsewhere, do so. No one will know but you and me."

"Wow," she breathed. "Thank you, Rhyn. But really, he humored me for his own reasons. What if it starts up again tomorrow?"

"It won't."

"You know this how?"

"His game isn't the one you think he's playing. I'll leave it at that. Just promise me one thing," he added. "Don't give that vial to Wynn. He'll bargain a way home and swallow it on his way out. If you use it for his daughter, dump it in her mouth yourself. If you keep it, hide it somewhere safe until you need to make a deal. Darkyn will know what it is the minute he sees it."

"I promise. I know better than to trust Wynn," she said with a sigh.

"You did what no one else has ever done and convinced the Dark One to stop slaughtering innocents. Be proud of that," he said. "Now, get your ass back to hell before your mate hunts me down."

She gave him another smile and turned away, retreating through the black portal. She emerged on the landing and stopped to study the vial. He was right. It'd make a good bargaining tool for a deal. Her thoughts returned to the sight of the girl in the bed.

How many days, months, years had she prayed for a miracle like the one in her hand? Diagnosed with a brain tumor as a child, she was pronounced terminal over three years before. The pain, the surgeries, the rollercoaster of hope and despair. Was the girl in pain?

Should it matter that she was Darkyn's daughter? Deidre wasn't certain what to feel in that regard. The daughter of her mate for eternity, who terrified her and ordered the slaughter of innocents.

Who'd stopped because she asked him and showed some sign of yielding to their bond, if not to her.

In either case, Deidre never put a stupid deal over the life of another suffering as she had. She'd be helping Wynn out of Hell as well. The idea he got out causing all her suffering made her frown. Deidre wasn't vindictive, but she still didn't fathom the amount of evil in one's heart it took to kill them slowly while smiling and saying they'd get better.

Yet the alternative was that Darkyn probably killed Wynn tomorrow, when he failed. It was too easy of a death for the first Ancient.

She'd make him a deal. One he couldn't turn down.

She wrapped her hand around the vial and focused on calling a portal back to her room. The hole appeared, and she cringed as she went through it. She'd never liked the portal system outside of Hell; this one was scarier. There were no doorways, just a hole.

She ended up in her room as expected and left for the girl's room three doors down. She knocked, and Wynn answered.

"I hope you have good news," he said and pushed the door open, stepping aside. "I don't."

"Just checking in," she murmured. Her eyes fell to the girl. "What's her name?"

"Selyn."

Deidre crossed to her and touched the girl's forehead. Wynn paced to the desk in one corner, pushing the papers around with frustration.

"Your time is almost up, Wynn. What will you do?" Deidre asked carefully.

"I don't know, Deidre. Chances are he kills me or sells me back to Rhyn at some great cost."

"Or leaves you here somewhere," she mused.

"That would be the worst of the options. Have my magic stripped and turned into a blood monkey for demon scum."

"Can you make him a deal?"

"Maybe. I'm well aware of his reputation, though."

"I wouldn't make him a deal, and I'm his mate," she said with a snort. "I get Hell for eternity and you get...death. Or to leave."

"Fate is a cruel master," Wynn said.

His nonchalance made her angry. She sat down and pulled her knees into the chair.

"Do you have any regrets, Wynn? I mean, this time around, I guess."

"You want me to say I regret what I did to you."

"It'd be nice to hear you wish you hadn't almost killed me." Deidre smiled sadly as he glanced at her. She rested her head against the back of the chair. Nervous about proposing a deal, she also feared doing it wrong. Darkyn's first few lessons returned to her. She went over the wording of the deal in her mind.

"I do," Wynn said in a considering tone. "In some respects."

"I think you do a little. I mean, why else did you want to ask me out to dinner at the end?"

"I did what little I could to assuage my guilt."

"But not for my sake," she murmured. "For yours."

"The greatest lesson I've learned this life is survival. In my previous life, I was nearly invincible. My magic was stunted this time around. It's made me cautious and appreciative of the importance of self-reliance. Caring for someone is a vulnerability."

She heard what was behind his message, the cunning edge Darkyn didn't try to hide behind pretty words like Wynn did. No, she didn't trust the Dark One, but she doubted he'd cover up what he was.

"I miss my friend Wynn," she admitted softly. "I trusted you with everything I had."

"See where that got you," he teased.

"Well, what if our roles were reversed?" she started with thoughtfulness. "What if I could help you meet your deadline? Would you trust me?"

"I imagine if you had that ability, Darkyn would've discovered it."

"What if he didn't?" she asked. "What if the silly, innocent, clueless little girl you spent years lying to actually had something that you need to leave here?"

"What are you saying?" Wynn faced her, alerted by the note in her voice. His sharp gaze took her in.

"Just that," she said with a shrug. "What if there was something I could do to help you?"

"The Deidre I know wouldn't put politics over helping someone in need, like Selyn," he replied.

"True," she agreed. "Though I could always wait until tomorrow, after Darkyn deals with you."

"You're not vindictive. I know how good you are. You'll forgive Past-Death for hurting you. You've probably already forgiven me. You'll be the one person in the universe who finds an ounce of good in that creature, Darkyn."

His words struck home. They always did. Only now, she understood he was manipulating her. Darkyn's shared sense warned her. She heard it in Wynn's, saw it in the ruthless gleam in his eyes. The knowledge made her want to scream, knowing she'd spent years blindly letting him talk to her like this and encourage her with pretty words, while he ensured the tumor in her head killed her.

This was the kind of man whose depravity Darkyn preyed on.

"I have forgiven you," she said. "Not because you deserve it, but because I understand you had a weakness that consumed you."

"Darkyn's bond has given you insight."

"Either that or being screwed over by everyone you trust," she replied. "It doesn't matter. I have forgiven you, Wynn. I am sorry you did what you did. I'm even sorrier to know that it didn't change you." Her throat tightened at the words. "You're right. I'm not vindictive. I don't want to see you hurt here or killed."

He appeared wary for the first time since she'd known him.

"I have a solution that might work. It's not guaranteed, but it's a shot," she said.

"Why should I trust this?"

"Because if it fails, it costs you nothing. We both walk away, and it never happened."

"You are offering me a deal."

"Didn't think this silly little girl that believed your lies for years had it in her?" she asked in a bitter tone.

"I didn't think you'd hesitate to help someone if you could."

"I'm not. Offering you a deal is helping you both."

He considered.

"No obligation to hear the terms. You can always walk away," she told him, repeating the words Darkyn used to lure her into the deal they made originally.

"Very well. What are the terms?"

"If this solution works, you owe me a favor of my choosing. If it doesn't, you owe me nothing."

"Carte blanche?" He shook his head firmly. "No, Deidre."

"What's it worth for you to be able to leave here? Darkyn always keeps his terms. You don't have a solution. You're running out of time," she reminded him. "Whether or not you take my deal, I'll help her. It's just the when that I'm looking at."

"You won't help her today, if I don't agree," he said.

"No."

"You'd let Darkyn torture or kill me, knowing my death is on your head."

"It's not on my head. You have a chance to save yourself. If you choose not to take it, it's your decision, not mine."

"And if I tell Darkyn you've got a solution?" Wynn challenged. "He checks in daily."

"You think he'll choose to spare you?"

Wynn studied her for a quiet minute. Deidre held his gaze, heart quick but calm in her decision.

"It's right here," she said and held up the vial. "Your ticket out of Hell. I know it's a high price."

"Carte blanche is beyond high," he said. His gaze, however, was riveted to the vial.

"If it doesn't work, no harm, no foul," she said. "If it does, wouldn't you rather take a chance to owe me than be in debt to Darkyn?"

He was thinking hard about it. She sensed weakness and dwelled on the instinct for a moment. He was going to fold. One more push. She'd never before been able to tell when someone lied to her or when they were manipulating her.

Was this how Darkyn knew how to make deals? Was this a benefit of her bond to him?

Oh, to have had this instinct years ago, when she met Wynn!

"You'll have to trust me, Wynn, the way I trusted you for all those years," she continued in a hushed voice. "You'll have to trust I'm nothing like you, that what I eventually ask of you doesn't do to you what you did to me."

"Agree or I'm fucked," he summarized.

"Yes. You can take credit for curing her, if it works."

Another long pause. Wynn wiped his face.

"Very well," he said reluctantly. "I agree to your terms."

Deidre rose and held out her hand. He hesitated once more but took it. Cold energy sealed the deal as official.

"Don't toy with what time I have left," he said. His features remained stoic, but she felt his concern. She'd judged right; he'd do whatever it took to survive.

Deidre twisted the top of the vial open and neared the girl.

"Wait," Wynn said. He repositioned Selyn's head then gripped her chin and squeezed her cheeks until her mouth opened. "Okay, now."

Deidre held her breath as she poured the mystery blood down the pale girl's throat. Blood speckled her lips. Deidre tipped the vial to tap the last of the liquid out and glanced up at Wynn.

"I wonder how long-"

Selyn's eyes fluttered open. She started coughing.

"Prop her up," Wynn snapped.

Deidre helped him lift the hacking girl into a sitting position. Wynn propped her upper body with pillows.

"Bring me that tray," he ordered Deidre, indicting the table to his right.

She scampered around the bed to obey, beyond thrilled that the blood worked. She took him the tray. Selyn appeared confused at the sight of them, her dark eyes unfocused. Her skin began to flush until it was pink enough to look human rather than the sleep of the dead.

"Omigod, Wynn," Deidre exclaimed. "We did it!"

"Hush."

She clamped her mouth closed, watching him check Selyn's vitals with the urgency and diligence of a man whose life depended upon the results.

"Can you hear me?" Wynn asked. He lifted Selyn's eyelids and shone a light to watch her pupils.

The girl's opened her mouth to answer. What came out was a pitiful squawk.

"Your vocal cords did not heal correctly," Wynn told her. "If you can move your head, nod for yes, and shake for no. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Are you in pain?"

A shake.

"I'm going to check your reflexes."

Selyn watched him with unease that bordered on alarm. Deidre put her hands over her mouth to keep from squealing and stepped back to give Wynn room. She met Selyn's confused gaze as the girl looked around the room.

"Some muscular atrophy. She's malnourished and dehydrated," Wynn said. "Deidre, the notebook on top of my desk."

Deidre whirled and went quickly. She read through the notes on the first page as she returned, unable to make out Wynn's medical jargon and short hand. She gave it to him, and glanced up, feeling Selyn's eyes.

The girl appeared stunned.

"You're going to need some serious physical therapy," Wynn said and took a few notes.

Selyn's squawked once more and pointed.

Deidre looked behind her, expecting to see Darkyn behind her and relieved that he wasn't. The girl continued to stare at her.

"Your back, Deidre," Wynn supplied.

Deidre twisted to display the tattoos marking her as Darkyn's.

"You've missed a few things," Wynn said with an amused look at Deidre.

"Is she okay?" Deidre spoke finally.

"Nothing rest and therapy can't fix." He sounded beyond relieved.

"We did it!" Deidre exclaimed again in a near-squeal.

Selyn's brow furrowed. She'd yet to look away from Deidre.

"Demons don't act like that," Wynn said then addressed Selyn. "Your father's mate was human. He turned her recently. She retains many of the less appealing human qualities."

"You're welcome," Deidre said, annoyed at him.

Human. Selyn mouth the word.

"Horrifying, isn't it?" Wynn replied. "Deidre, it's been lovely dealing with you. I'm about to summon Darkyn." He raised his eyebrows in a hint.

Deidre nodded. She smiled at Selyn and left the room.

She'd done two good things today. She walked to her chamber then paused, thinking about the ugly creature that was Zamon. Not wanting to wilt in her room with the energy of excitement in her blood, she padded down the hallway and followed the path she'd taken the other day.

She checked her hair twice to make sure no part of her marks were obscured. Darkyn said Hell would do what she asked, so she willed her hair shorter and blonde. Even demons feared Past-Death; she'd ride on the small woman's reputation. She checked her locks to make certain they turned. Still, her step slowed the first time she crossed demons. To her surprise, they bowed and moved on. The next one to pass her did as well.

Deidre made it to the library a few minutes later. Zamon looked up as she entered.

"Come," he said.

She sat across from him at the large desk. He appeared to be in the middle of recording things again.

Deidre studied him. She tested Hell's powers. Zamon's wings turned pink, and she laughed.

"It is not becoming for a demon," he grumbled.

"You look great in pink."

"The deities," he started, glaring at her. He pushed her a book and opened it. "You are learning about them today."

Cheered by the pink demon, she looked from the unfamiliar writing to him. He frowned at her then touched the book. The words swirled off the page and morphed into images of men and women.

"There are two classes," he said. "The Seen and Unseen. The more powerful the deity, the more restricted. The Dark One is the most powerful, and he grows more so, as the population of the worlds increase. His power comes from the depraved and the forbidden. There have been two deities in the position of the Dark One, rendering him one of the oldest."

An image of Darkyn appeared forefront before the images swirled and began to play a disjointed movie. It showed him in battle, his hardened body moving with unearthly speed and agility against enemies that were obscured. He went from battle to the halls of Hell to a horse, leading a rebellion of the demon army across the mortal plane. She watched the battle with the Dark One – the one Darkyn lost – and saw him banished to the bowels of Hell. A born warrior, he earned his way out by honing his dealmaking skills. Battle made him ruthless; Hell made him shrewd.

She covered her eyes when she saw him take his demon form.

"To restrict his powers, he can move between Hell and the mortal world but not beyond without the permission of those deities who rule the other domains," Zamon continued. "He cannot enter Death's domain or other areas of the Immortal world without invitation. His magic is limited on the mortal world as well. He must rely upon physical prowess and dealmaking skills to lure Immortals and mortals to Hell in order to tap into the great stores of magic."

Darkyn spent much of his lifetime in battle, she noted. If not with Hell's enemies, then within the ranks of demons. He fought his way from a lowly demon to the position of Demon Lord and finally defeated the Dark One. Merciless, cutthroat, aggressive, he purged the oldest demons from the demon ranks. Any contender for the Dark One position was slaughtered by Darkyn personally. The demons remaining were all young and loyal, trained by him over the years. It made sense he was so skilled a warrior and dealmaker, if his magic was so limited in the mortal world.

Deidre watched the movie in both fascination and fear. Violence and command weren't second nature to Darkyn; they were his first. Her eyes traveled over the image of him training others, his whip-like upper body bare to reveal the roped muscles of his shoulders and chest, the tucked waist and flat abs. He wore black pants that hugged his lower body to reveal the lean hips and long, muscular legs. He was lean and agile. He handled weapons as if they were extensions of his body, never dropping them or misplacing a strike. He was a brutal disciplinarian with no more mercy for his demons than he showed humans who lost deals. He also generously awarded those who helped him win battles. His men were fanatically loyal, revering.

Watching him move made her blood heat. She'd never seen anything like it.

She glimpsed Selyn and even herself in his story. The image of him drawing her blood for the first time on the landing scared her. She'd been terrified that day, unaware she'd be mated to him twenty four hours later.

The images faded and morphed back into words that dropped to the pages. Deidre studied them, pensive. Darkyn dealt with her the same way he did everything else in his life. He allowed no room for error, no alternative but for his victory. He forced her to face her reality from the moment she awoke with his name on her back. He didn't lose at battle. He didn't lose at dealmaking. He was both a strategic thinker and capable of detailed execution. No false hope, no redress, no going back. He fought and conquered.

"Death," Zamon said. He turned the page and touched it. More words leapt from the page. "The second most powerful deity and the second most restricted. His domain extends to the mortal plane. His magic comes from the souls of the dead, which are kept in the underworld. There have been nine deities to serve in this position."

She watched in dismay as images of Gabriel played. The entirety of his history with Past-Death unfolded before her, from the moment Past-Death discovered the seventeen-year-old Gabriel, the lone survivor of demon attacks led by Darkyn. Past-Death adopted Gabriel, trained him, turned him into a killing machine, her top assassin and lover.

Deidre couldn't help staring at Past-Death in the history. Seeing Gabriel was painful. Seeing her mirror image was a reminder that Deidre was created by a goddess with the sole intention of using and discarding the human she made.

Seeing them together made Deidre's chest ache. They did love each other. Deidre watched their history and their love grow then become stale, not because of what they felt, but because of the steps Past-Death began taking to ensure she never lost him. In doing so, she drove Gabriel away.

Deidre's eyes misted over. She swallowed hard. It was a tragic love story, one she knew the end to and dreaded seeing how it came to be that way. By the end of the chain of events that led to Past-Death's rebirth in Hell, Deidre was near tears, hating herself and the woman who destroyed the worlds of all three of them.

Who was Deidre to interfere in something that spanned so long and involved two people who cared so much for each other? Who was Past-Death to create a new life simply to discard it? Deidre never felt she belonged in the mortal or Immortal worlds, because she didn't. She'd been molded to exist for one reason and expected to step aside when her purpose was fulfilled.

It hurt more than glimpsing the one scene the book recorded of her interaction with Gabriel, their first night on the beach, the one that condemned her eventually to Hell.

She couldn't bring herself to see what happened when Past-Death returned to the mortal world five days before. Deidre dropped her head to her arms on the table. She feared seeing them happy again, knowing she really was nothing more than a disposable stand-in until they were able to be together again. Just as much, she feared seeing them miserable, because of her brief involvement in the mix. She wanted Gabriel to be happy but couldn't bear to see it, not when her own world was still so new and frightening.

Deidre's heart felt like it was breaking. She was never meant to outlive meeting Gabriel. From what she saw, Past-Death and Wynn were supposed to make sure of that.

Darkyn claimed there was, but she saw no silver lining to her existence. She was in Hell, because there was nowhere else for her lost soul to go.

## Chapter Seven

Deidre.

A vision of the beach where she met Gabriel told her who it was.

Deidre sucked in a breath, torn. Darkyn didn't restrict her movement or who she saw, but the idea of seeing Gabriel again so soon after their meeting yesterday disturbed her.

She didn't want to go, especially with the memories of the movies about his past still fresh. She didn't want to not go. Darkyn was right; she still had feelings for Death, and she didn't know what to do about them. After a moment grappling with her mixed emotions, she got up and called a portal.

"I'll be back, Zamon," she told the ancient demon.

"Like I have anywhere else to go," he replied grumpily. His tone made her smile despite her anxiety.

Deidre crossed through the shadow world. She turned her hair back to long pink as she walked, self-conscious about Gabriel seeing her tattoos even though he already knew about them.

Gabriel awaited her on the beach near where they'd first sat together two weeks before. His gaze was on the ocean, his large form tense and still. Stars and a half moon were bright, the sound of the ocean comforting. She didn't realize how much she missed the human world. She ached to be back in it regularly.

"Hi, Gabriel," she called softly.

He twisted, gaze going down her frame. After a moment, Gabriel laughed.

"He turned you into a sex demon!" he exclaimed.

Deidre flushed. The chilly ocean breeze made her dress move as if it was alive, and she swiped at the pink hair blinding her. She crossed her arms, shivering.

"I like it," he added. He patted the sand beside him.

"Of course you do. You're male. Me? Not so much!" she retorted. She hesitated then sat beside him. "This is where we met." She wanted to ask him why he chose this spot but was afraid to.

"I'm surprised he let you come," he said, eyes returning to the sea.

"He says the mate of the Dark One can do whatever she wants. Apparently, evil is equal opportunity."

"Not sure seeing an ex-mate is included."

Deidre glanced at him. The bitterness in his voice bothered her. Gabriel kept his eyes on the ocean.

"Are you really okay?" he asked.

"I think so," she answered. Given the circumstances. "He, um, has been very assertive and direct."

"You mean violent and aggressive."

"Not violent," she replied quickly. "Not with me, at least. He leaves no room for failure or my hope that certain things will change."

"You don't think you'll ever leave Hell."

"I can come and go. But he will always be my... mate." It was still an overwhelming idea. Hearing it out loud only made her more confused.

"I'm serious about taking you to the underworld, if he hurts you," he reasserted. "Immortal Laws be damned. If I'd had the balls to..." he stopped.

She rested her temple on one knee, eyes on him. She smiled, touched by his concern. She almost told him that – of the two of them – she was the one with nothing to fear from Darkyn.

"It's scary to be with him," she admitted. "But... he doesn't mistreat me and there's potential for me to do good from Hell. I helped Rhyn already. We stopped Darkyn's demons from massacring the kids."

"He told me it was over," Gabriel said, gaze intent. "How did you convince Darkyn to stop?"

"I asked him."

Gabriel snorted. "You make it sound easy."

"Well, it was," she replied. "I don't understand his motivation."

"You were right yesterday about saying I wouldn't take a chance," he started. "I want to clear the air, though. There's more to the story than what you know."

"Gabe..." she said, sighing. She hoped he'd drop the subject, that they could start over.

"I have to." He took a deep breath. "I didn't take a chance on you for the reason you think. It had to do with the tumor. Wynn said your happiness made it grow. You were so close to the end, we couldn't take a chance. It had nothing to do with you or how I felt."

"Instead of making my last days happy, you decided to make me miserable in the hopes you could find a solution," she said.

"Pretty much," he replied. "I was going to Darkyn myself to make a deal to save you."

"Really?"

"You beat me to it."

Deidre was quiet for a moment. "I think we both did things imperfectly."

He chuckled.

"Up until today, I wasn't convinced that this might have been destiny from the beginning," she began. "This will sound weird, but bear with me. Hell has a library, and the librarian has been teaching me about the deities through these little video tutorial things."

"You've been sitting in Hell watching movies?" He smiled.

"It's like these books and when you open them, these movies spring up," she said, motioning with her hands. "I don't know how to explain it."

"It's called an Oracle. Hell has one, and Death does as well. The book houses the spirit of a dead Oracle from the time-before-time that records history, among other things."

"You mean it's possessed?"

"Yeah."

Deidre stared at him, surprised.

"Voluntarily. The Oracles wanted to be put in books," he explained. "Though saying it that way does sound strange."

"It's totally bizarre." She felt bad for the Oracle trapped in a book.

He laughed.

"Anyway, I saw how Darkyn was created from a lowborn demon scorned by others because he was smaller. He had nothing but ambition. I saw how you were created from a seventeen-year-old boy who wanted nothing more than for your mistress to love you." She paused. "I saw what was between you and the original Deidre. Her plan didn't just happen when I was born. She really did create me. She waited thousands of years and worked with both Dark Ones to make it happen. Fate played a hand, too, as did Wynn. I don't think she knew they were working as much against her as with her. She had one focus: to be with you in a way you couldn't be together when she was Death."

Gabriel listened, tensing.

"I was meant to be..." Deidre cleared her throat. The emotions from watching the videos was almost too much. She fought back tears, not wanting to cry in front of him.

He glanced at her.

"Disposable," she managed. "Basically. Or would've been, if Darkyn hadn't decided to honor the informal deal he made with her."

"Gods," he muttered. "You were never disposable."

"Seeing the relative lack of consequence your life has in the grand scheming of deities and Immortals kind of makes you view things differently, Gabe."

"Sometimes when you look at a grain of sand in your hand, you forget that there couldn't be a beach without every one of them."

"That's sweet." She smiled. "I guess what made the biggest impression was watching you and her over the course of thousands of years. There was never a day when you didn't love each other. There were days when you hated the fact you did love her, and there were days when she almost walked away from you for good, because she hated that she couldn't control how she felt," Deidre continued. "But there was a never a day when you didn't love her and she didn't love you."

The truth was so painful. She wasn't sure how she got it out. It made her feel hollow. There was a part of her that wished it had been her she saw in the videos. But thinking it was disturbing. She wasn't certain if she felt guilt because of her relationship with Darkyn or if it was regret. Knowing what she did now about her destiny, would she have sought out a deal with Darkyn?

Her thoughts went to the good she might be able to do from Hell.

"I'm sorry, Deidre," Gabriel whispered. "You gave me hope when I was numb to the world. You don't deserve any of this."

"Silver lining," she said softly. "I helped Rhyn protect kids. I can help others. Darkyn is not an easy person to understand or live with, and I'm still not certain at all what to think of him at times. He's been fair and brutally honest, and he can't hurt me because of our blood bond. I kind of like him, even if he scares me."

"Kind of like him." Gabriel smiled. "Only someone as sweet as you would say that about the Dark One."

"Don't get me wrong. He's not normal. But it makes me think that maybe things happen for a reason."

"What reason is there behind falling for a woman and watching her get shipped off to live with the Dark One?" he asked bitterly.

"You did love me," she said, smiling.

"Yeah."

"I've got news for you, Death," she said in a lighter tone. "What you loved about me is present in your current mate. You just have to give it a chance."

"She sends you to Hell, and you go to bat for her."

"Not for her. For you," she replied. "I want you to be happy. I am out of the picture. I understand this. I also forgive both of you, Gabe. I can't say I want her to be happy yet, but I don't want her to be sad."

He laughed. "That's as spiteful as you get, isn't it?"

"Pretty much." Her face was warm. "I loved you, too, Gabriel. I think a part of me always will. You gave me the strength to take a step I wouldn't have otherwise. You made me want to live when I was ready to die. I'll always be grateful to you for that."

Tears made her vision blur again. As much as it hurt, she knew her place was with Darkyn. Accepting it was difficult – but necessary. Letting go of Gabriel was much harder than accepting her new mate. But neither of them were going to be able to move on, if they didn't both at least acknowledge that she was stuck in Hell – for good.

"You're welcome, I think," he said with a shake of his head. "My offer to hide you in the underworld is always open."

"I won't need it."

They sat in silence, both of them gazing at the ocean. She shivered in the chilly ocean breeze. She was cold but grateful to see the ocean. It always put her at peace. An instinct wriggled, one she didn't want to acknowledge or deal with. Darkyn was always right; the sense he gave her to gauge when someone around her had an ulterior motive was tingling. It made her angrier at her mate, who systematically shut the doors around her and also managed to interfere with her ability to trust anyone else.

"You want something else from me," she whispered.

Gabriel glanced at her.

"Darkyn said my weakness is being taken advantage of by others. He shared some of his power or whatever your deities do. I can sense that you have an ulterior motive of some sort," she explained. "I can't see it, but I feel it."

"Savvy demon," Gabriel murmured. "You needed that."

"No more men like Wynn killing me slowly."

"You're right. I do need to ask you for something."

She focused on him in interest, wondering what Death could possibly need from her.

"I have to get into the underworld. The dealers are rebelling, and they've figured out a way to out me from my position. I have to be there in order to prevent it," he said carefully. "The only way into the underworld is through Hell."

"Darkyn will make you a deal you probably can't live with," she guessed. "I can't make deals."

"I wasn't going to ask you to," he said. "I was going to ask you to help me get home."

Her calm acceptance faded, replaced by turmoil. Gabriel had no way of knowing that Darkyn was in and out of her mind. He was asking for a favor, one Darkyn would discover within seconds of her returning to Hell.

It wasn't fair.

"You're afraid," he said.

She shook her head.

"You're not the only one who can sense emotion in others," he reminded her with a nudge. "It's more than fear. I'd say you're still pissed at me."

"You know what you're asking me to do?" she said at last.

"Yes. I have no other option, Deidre. There's something in my underworld that I have to find before they do."

"What is it?" she asked.

"Only my soul," he replied ruefully.

"Oh, god, Gabriel," she whispered, stricken. Deidre started to panic, not wanting Darkyn to know Gabriel's secret but knowing she wasn't able to hide anything. What would Darkyn do with such a damning secret? Send someone to grab Gabriel's soul?

"Just get me through Hell," Gabriel said. "What happens then won't matter."

"Gabriel..." She rose and paced, her feet sinking into the soft sand. "You shouldn't have told me that. You shouldn't have asked me." Frantically, she tried to recall anything anyone might've told her about suppressing information from someone reading her mind.

"I have no alternative," he said, rising. "I'm not asking because of what we had. I'm asking because I have no choice. I'll owe you."

"You already do owe me one favor," she reminded him.

"I'll owe you two."

Deidre sighed. "I'll try to help you, Gabriel. God help me, I don't know how."

He watched her, arms crossed. He thought she was being difficult. He couldn't know that she was about to become the only thing standing between his soul and Darkyn.

"I have to figure this out," she murmured. "Can I have a little time?"

"Whatever you need."

"Don't worry. I'll figure it out way before our deal is up," she said, rolling her eyes.

"What deal?"

"The one between me and your Deidre."

"You made a deal." He crossed his arms, wary once more. "Do I want to know what it was?"

She hesitated. "No. Because it doesn't matter."

"Your deal is sealed by the Dark One. Why do I have the feeling he's waiting to collect?"

"I can't talk about it with you, Gabriel. She shouldn't either," she said quietly. "Please just know I bear neither of you ill will, despite the outcome."

"Fuck," he muttered. "That scares the shit out of me."

"It shouldn't. I'm the only one in this mess who isn't out to hurt anyone else," she retorted. "It's strange, but I've learned from Darkyn not to be ashamed of my nature. He laughs at me for being unwilling to hurt anyone else, but he says no one should feel shame about who they are."

"He's a living example of that," Gabriel remarked wryly. "Life lessons from a sociopathic demon lord. I never expected him to be capable of treating you well."

"He does, in his own way," she replied. "Can I get your soul from the underworld?"

"A demon of human origin?" he shook his head. "Neither humans nor demons are permitted entry to the underworld."

She gave a sound of frustration.

"It would take all of five seconds," he said. "I'll accept all risk and if Darkyn is angry, I'll take you with me."

"Let me figure it out," she repeated. "Thank you for checking up on me and for the offer to protect me."

"It's the least I can do."

Troubled, Deidre nodded. She nibbled on her lower lip, thinking furiously.

"Romantic setting for two former lovers." The Dark One's low growl made Deidre blink.

"We're just talking. No need to be jealous," Gabriel said, bristling.

"One might ask why you're distressing my mate," Darkyn said.

Deidre sighed. "I'm not distressed. He didn't do or say anything bad." But she did want to feel him close to her. She had no idea if Darkyn sought her out when she was upset because he thought she might be in danger or because he was concerned about her being with her ex.

She crossed the short distance to her mate and paused in front of him, breathing in his dark scent. Darkyn's frame was rigid and his growl loud. She leaned forward until she was resting against the demon, who didn't move away. His warmth was comforting, his hard body her home. She nudged his chin with her cheek to try to soften his mood. He lifted his head, refusing her.

She nudged him again, this time nuzzling his neck.

"Please don't be angry," she said for his ears only and rested one hand against his heart.

Her mate hesitated then lowered his head, nudging her gently in return in a sign that he wasn't too angry with her.

"This was where we met, Darkyn," Gabe said.

"Thus far, only one of us has managed to hold onto her," Darkyn replied.

"No fighting," Deidre said. "Go home, Gabriel."

She didn't expect Death to listen. To her surprise, he called a portal.

"Always a pleasure, Deidre." She turned to watch him go.

Darkyn's arm slid around her when the portal closed behind Gabriel. Chilled by the cold ocean wind, Deidre pressed herself against his warm body. At the feel of his hot breath on her neck, she tilted her head. The Dark One nipped her.

"What're you hiding, love?" he purred. There was an edge in his voice, one that told her he already knew. "Besides your markings."

Deidre's breath caught. She willed her hair shorter and blonde once again, knowing he'd already read her mind and seen the reason why she changed her hair. His nip made her shiver. No part of her wanted to reveal what Gabriel told her or that she meant it when she said she would find a way to help him. She was still silently cursing herself for asking him why he needed to get to the underworld and him for answering honestly.

She couldn't help thinking it was the first truly honest exchange they'd ever had – and the timing was the worst it could possibly be.

"You always knew when I'm upset," she said to Darkyn.

"I sense your distress, love."

"Darkyn..." she whispered.

"Pleading already," he noted. "That bad?"

"If you already know, why are you asking me?" She gazed up into his dark eyes. His hands skimmed her arms to circle her and rest at the small of her back. One of his nails scratched her rhythmically, sending small streaks of pleasure through her.

"A better question is why you don't want me to know."

"You know why," she said with exasperation. "Because I don't want you to hurt him."

"So you're choosing loyalty to him over me."

"No!" she twisted in his grip to look up at him. "You can read everything about me. I know you know this isn't true."

He wasn't happy. His cold gaze was piercing, his frame tense despite her touch.

"I still care about him, yes," she added. "I'm not choosing anyone. I'm trying to do what I feel is right, and I'm terrified that you will hurt him."

"You want to lead another deity through my domain without my permission. I've slain demons for far less."

Deidre didn't know what to say. She leaned into him, breathing in his scent.

"Will you give him permission?" she ventured.

"Not unless he's willing to make a deal with me."

"But wouldn't you do whatever it took, too?"

"I would."

"How is this different?"

"If he wants access to my domain, he will deal with me directly, not prey on your weaknesses."

"Kindness and compassion aren't weaknesses," she countered.

"They are when dealing with deities."

She heard the firmness of his tone and understood he was drawing another boundary for her. This one left her saddened and frustrated. It was impossible to help Gabriel without Darkyn finding out.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't like it when you're angry." She nuzzled his neck, loving the scent of his blood.

Darkyn wrapped both arms around her and lowered his head. His bite was sharp enough to make tears spring into her eyes. The pain melted into hot pleasure once again, and she closed her eyes as he fed long and hard. Rather than incite her, it left her sleepy. She was dozing by the time he finished and nudged her awake.

"Leave the dealings of deities to the deities," he whispered.

"Okay," she murmured.

"Drink."

Rousing herself, she bit him and fed until revived.

"Zamon is waiting for you in the library." Darkyn released her and lifted his chin towards an awaiting portal.

Deidre stepped away, almost crossing into it before she realized he wasn't following.

"You aren't coming?" she asked, facing him again.

"I have matters to attend to."

"You're not going after Gabriel." She searched his hard face, unable to read him.

"Not your concern, love."

She rolled her eyes at him and marched into the shadow world, fed up with all the deities in her life.

## Chapter Eight

She emerged into the hallway in front of Zamon's library. Zamon didn't look up as she entered.

"Maybe we will get through another deity or two more today," he said in a disgruntled voice.

"I'm not having a good day, Zamon," she grumbled back. She mentally envisioned his wings pink again.

They turned colors in response. He gave her a harried look.

"Very well. We are starting with Fate," Zamon said. He tapped the Oracle book waiting where she left it. She sat down to watch, unhappy with how her morning had gone so far.

A familiar face appeared from the words, the golden-skinned deity she nicknamed Mr. Checkmate the first time they met at the Immortal Sanctuary. Fate was as old as Darkyn. Instead of war in his background, there was peacemaking and diplomacy from the beginning.

"Fate has been served by three deities, making it second oldest in existence," Zamon started. "Fate is considered the weakest deity, which gives him unlimited access to all of the worlds. He also appears uninvited in your library at will."

She blinked, not registering the deity was behind her until he spoke.

"I wouldn't say weakest," Fate mused. "Perhaps in the histories of the demons. In our histories, I'm king of the universe."

"You again," Deidre groaned.

"He comes here often," Zamon muttered. "Normally to spy upon my records."

"I have no need to spy," Fate replied. "There are a few creatures I've collected over the years that interest me. You are looking well, Zamon, for being a million years old. Pink is a good color on you."

Zamon ignored him. "Weakest, because he has no source of power."

"One might argue that manipulating the Future and unfettered access to the present provides more than enough influence."

"Perhaps he is simply lazy," Zamon answered. "The more freewill Fate allows, the more depravity is created to feed the Dark One."

"It works both ways, demon."

Deidre laughed at the exchange, sensing a quasi-friendship as old as the two arguing.

"I'm guessing Zamon didn't tell you who he was," Fate said, moving around the table. "Darkyn did not slay the Dark One. He simply forced him to retire."

"You?" she gasped, looking hard at Zamon.

"The danger with Darkyn is dealing," Zamon said.

"And fighting. He's the most incredible warrior you ever trained," Fate added.

"I trained my hatchling well."

As she watched, the ancient demon changed forms, turning into his human form, a handsome man in his prime. He was neither ancient nor ugly, with familiar dark eyes and hair and roughly hewn features. Unlike Darkyn, whose hair was short, Zamon's long hair was captured in a braid. His smile didn't reach his gaze but revealed fangs the size of Darkyn's.

"What's a hatchling and what did you just do?" Deidre asked, standing in alarm. The strange calm she felt around Zamon remained, and she recalled more clearly Darkyn's words about how the original Dark One lured in his prey.

"A hatchling is what demons call their offspring," Fate replied.

"You're Darkyn's father," she said, surprised.

"I am. I simply took on a form that you would not find threatening," Zamon answered. "Would you have entered my library if you saw me like this?" He motioned to himself.

"No way," she replied. "But you sent him into the middle of Hell for thousands of years. Did you want him to die?"

"That was the plan," Zamon replied. "I figured if he survived the worst Hell had to offer, he'd make a worthy successor. If not, no loss."

Darkyn's assertion that demons didn't have emotions almost seemed true. Deidre shook her head, once again feeling too far away from the reality these creatures lived in.

"They are different creatures," Fate said. "Zamon and I have always gotten along. Darkyn and me? Not exactly."

"Darkyn is a poised predator. He strikes where men are weak. He has no patience for your games. I invite them in for tea then steal their souls while they talk about the weather." Zamon winked at her. "If you weren't his, honey, I would've fucked you up the day you walked into my library."

First the videos then the confrontation with Gabriel, now this. It was turning out to be a horrible day.

"Why did Darkyn let you live?" she asked in a strangled voice.

"We made a deal," Zamon replied with a grunt. "You should know the power of a deal with him by now."

"Yes," she replied. "And the strength of a blood bond."

"Good," Fate said, satisfied. "In two days your deal with Past-Death is up."

They both looked at her. She flushed, wondering how many people were interested in her fate. She seemed unable to keep secrets from anyone.

"I know," she said.

"Darkyn loses no time claiming his victory," Zamon said. "Brash young demon."

"You win," Fate told Zamon.

"You had a deal about me?" she asked with a frown.

"Hell runs off deals," Zamon replied. "Fate said he would conquer you, but you couldn't conquer him. I said a creature who has never known peace will surrender unconditionally when he tastes it for the first time. Past-Death offered him a private deal before she died-dead and before my retirement." His dark gaze was steady, cunning.

Her mouth dropped open.

"She offered him something that was never before attainable. He is a fearless opportunist who has always wanted to be a god, and the deal was unofficial. If any part of it displeased him, he was able to cancel it. The terms were right," Zamon continued.

"Past-Death offered him me, the deity's mate she created, the only chance he had for a mate like every other deity," she said.

"Yes," Zamon said. "His lust for blood, war and women is insatiable. It made him powerful but drove him beyond madness and nearly destroyed my domain. Twice, though the first time is not common knowledge. Can you not see the appeal of a source of appeasement to a creature older than time?"

"I can," she replied.

It was hard to imagine something that fed off depravity wanted peace. He'd pursued her with the cunningness he was known for. Their interactions weren't what she'd generally considered normal, but she was able to see the moment Fate warned her of, when Darkyn decided to keep her. It was the night he provoked her and forced her to say the words that brought her world crashing down.

I'm yours, Darkyn.

"You're his father. How did you lose your deal?" she asked Zamon.

"He knew me better," Zamon replied. "He was stronger."

"Wow. Okay," she murmured, alarmed every time she learned more about why people feared Darkyn. "What did you win in your deal about me?"

"Nothing but the satisfaction of victory," Zamon said, grinning. "I am forbidden from creating deals with material outcomes."

"For my part, I simply wanted you to survive," Fate told her.

"Whatever," she said and rolled her eyes at him.

Deidre. The summons made her tense. She didn't recognize the voice, but she saw the shadow world.

"I've gotta go," she said, dreading another interaction that got her in trouble with Darkyn yet grateful to flee the two creatures that were currently terrifying her. She called a portal when she stepped into the hallway to see who awaited her.

Past-Death.

Deidre hesitated then stepped into the in-between place. Past-Death's features were pale, her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed comfortably in jeans and a light sweater. She looked far different than Deidre recalled. It wasn't her physical appearance; it was the shimmer of uncertainty and worry around her, emotions the deity hadn't been capable of.

"Hello," Deidre said.

"Hello," Past-Death replied. "My gods, what happened to you? Darkyn turned you into a sex-demon?"

"I guess if you give a man the ability to build his own mate, he'll make her a tramp." Deidre rolled her eyes.

Past-Death gave a startled laugh.

"You called me?" Deidre asked. She looked down and crossed her arms, chilled in the shadow world but also uncertain what to expect. Their first and only exchange hadn't been pleasant. She was torn between anger and pity for Gabriel's mate right now.

"I guess I wanted to see how you're faring."

Darkyn's lie detector skill gave Deidre a tingling at the base of her skull that she took to be a red flag.

"Weird, but good," she replied. "You?"

"You're doing good." Past-Death's smile was puzzled. "I'm really glad to hear it."

"You mean surprised?" Deidre murmured.

"No. I mean, yes, I am surprised, but I'm also glad," Past-Death said. "I, uh, know now what I did wasn't the best route to take. You must hate me."

"I don't."

An awkward silence fell.

"How can I help you?" Deidre asked. Past-Death's smile faded. Deidre noticed the circles under her eyes, and her air was agitated. She could almost guess what was wrong but remained quiet.

"I'm pretty sure no one can," Past-Death admitted. She cleared her throat. "I'm failing miserably. Darkyn stripped my power when I left Hell. I thought it'd be easy. I mean you humans... I guess you make it look simple. You know I couldn't figure out how to turn on the shower? I won't tell you how fascinating I find kitchen appliances."

Deidre smiled. She'd never paid much attention to appliances but imagined they might be intriguing to someone who had never seen them before.

"I'm just not getting some things," Past-Death said. She paused, sighing. "Like emotions. I never knew there were so many. I don't know how to control them or to make decisions when they're always there just confusing me."

"You're starting from scratch," Deidre observed, pitying the woman. "You have to go easier on yourself. Take time to learn the new things and try not be so frustrated with yourself."

Deidre stared at her. "How can you be so... nice?"

Deidre's face flushed with heat.

"I mean, you're in Hell maybe even being torn to pieces every day and you're being kind to me. I don't understand any of this."

"I guess I pity you."

Gabriel's mate blushed.

"Why did you want to see me now?" Deidre asked, her new instincts warning her of an attempt at deception. "You could've checked up on me at any point."

Past-Death considered.

"I'm not sure," she replied. "I guess I was afraid to see what I'd done. I kept hoping things would just go well. I told Gabe about what I did to you yesterday, and he walked out on me."

"That's rough," Deidre murmured.

"I'm fucking up everything," Past-Death continued. "He came back but he's barely speaking to me. Like he's there but I'm not."

"I remember the cold shoulder. He's good at pushing people away."

"I figured I had nothing to lose now. I might as well see what all I'd fucked up," Past-Death finished. "I wanted to check on you. If you were alive, I wanted to see if you had any... advice about how to deal with Gabriel."

Advice. Deidre was being asked by the woman who stole her lover and her destiny for advice. Was the Dark One laughing at her right now? There were days when she wished she was more like him, capable of great evil. Or at least, capable of revenge. Because she wasn't. She felt too bad for the former goddess to walk away.

She took a deep breath.

"Well, first, you didn't fuck me over. I thought you did at first and I'll admit, I'm not completely certain things might not break bad, but for now, I'm fine. Darkyn hasn't hurt me and won't. Look." She turned to show her tattoos.

"Oh my god!" Past-Death exclaimed. "He blood-bound you! That crafty son of a bitch!"

"In case I win our deal." Deidre said without thinking. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat. "Sorry. Seems kinda tacky to bring it up."

"No." Past-Death shook her head. "I knew he'd figure out something. Never guessed that. He's not someone who bows to others, and a blood-bond is pretty serious, considering you were already mates. I can't imagine the impact of both on him when one is more than enough."

Deidre still didn't quite believe the others were right. Rhyn claimed the same thing, but she definitely didn't feel as though she had any influence over Darkyn. She wouldn't be so terrified of him, if she did. Then again, would he tell her, if she did? She had no real way of knowing.

"That explains the fangs. So jealous," Past-Death added. "Sexy."

Damn fangs. She had forgotten not to smile and to keep her lips closed together. Deidre looked away, self-conscious about being turned into a demon.

"Anyway," she mumbled. "I'm glad you told Gabriel the truth. We talked after you told him."

"He came to see you." Past-Death frowned. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"He's always loved you, Deidre. That hasn't changed." Deidre said, sensing the jealousy in the woman before her.

"I don't believe it's possible," Past-Death said. "I've been afraid of losing him my whole life."

You had no trouble ripping him from me or me from my own life. Deidre kept her thoughts to herself, growing more distressed with the visit. She hugged herself.

"I don't know how to help," she whispered. "The bond between mates is strong. Gabriel is honorable. He will do what's right."

"I want to do what's right, too, but don't even know what that is."

"Darkyn's approach to the mating bond was much different than Gabriel's. Gabriel gave me space and a choice. Darkyn... no way in hell. Relentless." Deidre heard the dreamy note in her voice and blushed again. "Anyway I mean, if you confront something instead of letting it fester, it might be easier to deal with. Instead of waiting for Gabe to come around, why don't you go to him? Try to make things right."

"I've been trying to think of how to do that." Past-Death was pensive.

Deidre couldn't help wondering how the woman was able to ask such favors after hurting her so badly. Grudgingly, she spoke honestly, knowing there was nothing anyone – even Gabriel – could do to break a double bond.

"Remind him why he fell in love with you. He loves... your spontaneity, your sense of humor." She tapped one of her fangs absently. "He loves...you and always has. He's always loved the side of you that laughs. The part of you that makes him forget how grey his world is." Her throat tightened at the memory of the night she met Gabriel.

"My gods. How do you know this?" Past-Death's words were barely audible.

"I ..." Deidre blinked away her tears.

"You figured that out after a week, and I know nothing after thousands of years," Deidre whispered. "If you weren't blood-bound, I'd give him to you now."

Deidre was silent for a moment, wrestling with herself. Several days ago, she would have jumped at the chance. She let herself think what she'd do, if she had the choice between the two. Seeing Past-Death's desperation made Deidre realize Rhyn was right. The bond brought mates together, but it didn't create a relationship. It didn't create trust or affection or hope or love. Accepting, loving, trusting someone – even if bonded – was beyond Immortal Laws to dictate. There was still a choice.

What she started to feel for Gabriel had been real; what she felt for Darkyn was real. It gave her a little bit of peace, knowing she wasn't solely at the mercy of the Immortal Laws and Fate.

She shook her head in response to Past-Death.

"If I can win over the Dark One, you can win over Death," she added. "You have the advantage that he already loves you."

"Not sure why you're trying to help me," Past-Death said, tears sparkling in her eyes.

"I want to see Gabriel happy," Deidre replied honestly. "You are the only person who can do that."

"You really believe that?"

"I do."

"It's not going to happen in a week," Past-Death said, pacing.

"No."

Past-Death waited for her to say more.

Deidre hugged herself, hearing the unasked question about their deal. Darkyn said even if she won, Past-Death could live an eternity. Deidre had no idea what to say and even less of an idea what exactly happened when the deal was over.

"Are you allowed to leave Hell?" Past-Death asked.

Deidre nodded.

"If I don't fuck up everything and wipe out the world or die-dead in two days, I think I'd like to talk to you more," Past-Death said. "If you're interested in being the friend of someone like me."

Deidre heard the pain in Past-Death's voice and felt sorry for her. Emotions warred within her. She wanted to say no and walk away. She wanted to make sure the woman whose gaze had gone from confident to sad ended up okay. She never expected Past-Death to seek her out. All along, she'd hoped some part of the former deity was able to appreciate Gabriel as only a human lover could. But it didn't make it any easier for Deidre to deal with.

"I might need some time for that," Deidre responded at last. "I can forgive you, but I'm not sure I can ever trust you."

"Trust must be earned," Deidre said. "I get it. I'm learning that with Gabriel. I thought this was the first step. I'm just asking for the chance, from both of you, to make things right. If I even can."

"I'll think about it," Darkyn's mate said. "I'm gonna go. Um, I guess you know how to call me if you need anything."

"I do, thank you. Deidre, I really am happy that you're okay."

Deidre nodded. She turned and padded back to the portal to Hell, resisting the urge to run. She stepped through and emerged on the landing overlooking the desert. She slumped against the low wall, propping up her elbows and covering her face. Did she want to cry? Scream? She didn't know. Her eyes were warm with tears and her heart racing from the unexpected confrontation with the distressed ex-deity who viewed her as expendable less than a week before.

She was close to hyperventilating, overwhelmed by the visit from Gabriel and Past-Death, the images she'd seen in the videos in Zamon's library, the revelations from Zamon and Fate ...

Deidre tried to suck in deep breaths. Her body trembled from emotion. As she stared out at the deserts of Hell, she figured out what she felt. She was furious and so hurt, she wished she'd jumped into the Grand Canyon like she originally planned.

"My mate, helping someone win a deal against her." Darkyn was amused.

"I need to be alone," she said with more sharpness than she intended.

"Maybe I should say, my mate, facing reality." His touch on her bare shoulder made her angrier.

Deidre moved away.

He touched her again, cold energy spinning through her. Deidre swiped at his hand. She knew the danger of letting him provoke her, but she was too overwhelmed to handle him calmly. He'd been orchestrating everything, always aware of what he did to her without being able to care how hurt she was.

Darkyn took her arm. Deidre snapped.

She whirled and slapped him hard.

"Stop. Please," she said with effort. "I can't think when you do that!"

The demon smiled. Her slap didn't even faze him. He took a step closer. Claustrophobic, Deidre backed away. A flare of interest was in Darkyn's black gaze, one that made her realize he wasn't leaving until he was finished with her. Her throat was tight, her eyes blurring from tears. Her heel hit the solidness of a wall, and she tried to bolt.

Darkyn caught her easily and pushed her back in front of him, her back to the wall. Deidre shoved at him unsuccessfully. The demon lord took her wrists and pinned them above her head. He leaned into her, lowering his eyes to her level.

Deidre heard her own harsh breathing. Unable to look away from him, she couldn't fight the sense she was about to have a total meltdown.

"Please, please let me go," she choked out. "Please."

"No." The low purr was firm.

She pulled at her trapped arms, hating the feeling of being vulnerable to him.

"I can't do this. I can't be here. I... just... can't..."

"You can," he replied. "I know every part of your soul. I know exactly what you are and what you're capable of. If you weren't capable, you'd be dead."

She shook her head, struggling not to cry.

How the fuck did she live with being married to the devil? She'd given relationship advice to the woman who condemned her to Hell, advice meant to help snag the heart of a man she hadn't stopped loving.

Yet this was the way it was always supposed to have been. The histories and their relationship were destined to end this way.

Deidre hated that Darkyn was right. There was one place for her in this mess, and it was with him. It was a truth acknowledged by the primal instinct drawn to the scent of his blood and invigorated by his touch. She'd spent five days with him, silently fighting him, only to realize there was nowhere else to go.

"There's only one door open now," he continued.

The truth of his words made her last meager attempt at resistance melt. Deidre stopped trying to control her tears.

Darkyn's grip loosened. She tugged her hands free and leaned into him, sobbing and shaking, unable to support herself. Of all the emotions running through her mind, the one that hurt the most was knowing that everyone outside Hell had already written her off as a goner. She was the last to lose hope, and it was being forced to see how out of place she was in Gabriel's equation that finally broke her resolve.

He held her for a moment then swept her up in his arms. Deidre clung to him, no part of her capable of resistance. After a moment, she felt him place her on the bed. She rolled onto her stomach, weeping. Her heart hurt too much for her to stop. Even the scent of his blood barely impacted her senses.

The bed shifted under the weight of Darkyn's frame as he settled in beside her. Deidre was rolled onto her side. He placed the bloody thumb to her lips. Its effect was immediate.

She swallowed the few drops. She was able to breathe deeply again and her weeping turned to a trickle. Too exhausted to move, she closed her eyes as he pulled her into his body. He was warm and solid at her back, the only thing capable of grounding her in the nightmare of a world she lived in.

"Drink," he ordered in the low purr.

Deidre opened her eyes. He'd torn his wrist for her to feed. His other arm wrapped around her while his breath was hot against her ear. She fed, ensnared by his scent, until she was soothed then tucked her head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

"I'm yours, Darkyn," she said the words in a hushed voice. This time, they felt true. This time, there was nothing else standing between her and her destiny.

"You accept your place by my side."

"Yes," she murmured.

He nudged her onto her back. She went, meeting his dark gaze. The soulless, ancient intelligence there was as fathomless as the night sky. Even if his features were young and his body lean, he wasn't able to hide what he was.

"You feel pain," he said, studying her features.

"Yes. I hurt." Tears raced from the corners of her eyes. She didn't try to hide them this time; Darkyn had stripped her bare. There was no hiding from her mate.

Deidre touched his face with trembling fingers. His jaw was roughened from a five o'clock shadow. The quiet purr that only emerged when they were alone rumbled gently in his chest. He seemed content to study her. She was afraid to know what he thought, if he was counting the ways he could manipulate her now that there were no more barriers.

"You have always been vulnerable to me," he said, amused by her thought.

She sighed. "You don't understand."

"I have studied human nature for the entirety of my existence. I cannot exploit it, if I do not understand it."

"You want me to hurt. Isn't that what you do?" she asked, wiping her tears.

"I want your pain to be of a physical kind that I cause when we fuck like demons," he replied. "I do not wish you to feel pain otherwise."

"Are you trying to be nice?"

"I do not try at anything I do," he said with some irritation. "I conquer."

"So I'm a conquest."

"Without a doubt, love," he said without hesitation. "You are also my mate. I see weakness and vulnerability as I do everyone. But I see more."

"What?" she asked.

"I see beauty."

She gazed at him, puzzled. When he said no more, she smiled slightly. "What does that mean?"

"I see a conquest that gives me pleasure to think of as mine."

Deidre laughed. The demon lord had just admitted to being happy, in his own way. Her hope had been crushed in every other way – except that it stirred once more at the idea there was more to him than she knew. Though she doubted he was capable of emotions like she was, he was capable of more than he claimed, too.

"I'll never tire of conquering you, either," he said and nuzzled her neck. His hand circled her neck to release the clasp of her dress.

Her desire stirred, aided by emotion and hunger for him. Deidre pulled his head to hers and kissed him long and hard. Within seconds, their petting grew frantic, and she shimmied out of her dress before pushing off his shirt.

She groaned at the sensations he caused, soon drowning in the scent of blood and need to feel him inside her.

## Chapter Nine

They wrestled, fed and fucked until sheer exhaustion overtook her, and she slid into a short doze. She awoke to the sensation of him drinking from her. Darkyn wore her out enough to where her thoughts no longer spun out of control. Calm, she was able to focus. The image of Past-Death wouldn't leave her mind. She'd felt that level of desperation before and didn't wish it upon the woman meant to be with Gabriel.

"Is it wrong for me to want her to be happy, too, even after all she did?" she whispered.

Darkyn withdrew from her neck.

"I cannot see humans or Immortals or deities as you do. I see only the parts of them that hold depravity, weakness. I do not wish them well or happy. I evaluate them for opportunities," he said. "I understand pleasure, not happiness." As he spoke, he slid a nail down her hip, drawing blood. She shivered at the sensation.

"I know," she murmured. "You see me differently now, but did you when we met?"

"I saw what I do with everyone: what it would take to bring you here," he said. "You feared death, and I dangled hope in front of you. You made up your mind to deal with me, even if Gabriel was not part of your future."

"When did you figure out I was your mate?"

"In the shadow world when you told me about your tumor. As soon as I touched you, I knew," he said. "You remember what you were thinking when you turned down my offer the first time?"

She was quite for a moment, thoughtful. It was difficult to hear how easily he'd evaluated and cornered her to get her to Hell.

"You were the first person to give me a choice," she murmured. "You've been reading my mind from the beginning, haven't you?"

"From that moment, off and on. I had to be sure I even wanted you here."

"You let me go the first time because you knew I was your mate. You could've killed me and taken the soul out of my head at any point."

"Yes."

She shivered, unaware just how close she'd been to dying by his hands.

"Is this what all demons do?" she asked.

"Love, what I do to you would kill a demon many times over."

She gave a startled laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"A blood bound, deity's mate is the only person who could keep up with you," she guessed.

"Eternity is a long time to go unsatisfied."

It was almost an admission of loneliness, if a demon had feelings. She understood a bit more why a mate might appeal to even the Dark One. Darkyn was ancient, according to the tutorial she'd watched, from the time-before-time. He'd never had a partner in all his time alive.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked.

"Very."

"You aren't going to ask me?"

"I already know you are," he replied. "I see your thoughts like mine."

"All of them?"

"Even the one where you planned to lie to me about Wynn healing Selyn."

"Ah. Okay." She waited for some sort of reaction. He was quiet. "Did I make a good deal?"

"You did," he said. "Carte blanche never breaks bad for me. You were emotional, though."

"Yeah. I forgave him, but I just...I think I'm angrier at myself for falling for all his lies than I am at him for lying," she admitted.

"It will become second nature to know when one lies to you."

"I felt it," she said. "I was able to hear when he lied."

"Private deal," he said. "You make no deals with anyone aside from our private deals."

"In exchange for..." She frowned, reluctant to give up the ability.

"A favor of your choosing, so long as it pleases me to grant it."

Deidre sat up, staring at him. His cold gaze was calm and steady, his long fangs resting on his lower lip. The sight of them thrilled and scared her. He was relaxed, and it struck her how different he was with her in bed compared to outside their room.

"You're serious," she murmured. "You would do that?"

"Deal?"

"Yes."

"I am physically satisfied for the fifth day in a row, for the first time since I was hatched," he said. "I feel generous. Use it wisely, love. You may never get another. You can try by pleasing me every night."

"I will try, and I'll use it wisely," she said. "You can trust me." She looked at him curiously. "Do you trust me?"

"You have yet to be tested."

"But you sense depravity and weakness," she said in a mocking tone she hoped was similar to his.

"You are challenging me already." He flicked his nail against the pad of his thumb. "I am always ready for a fight. Are you, mate?"

Deidre groaned. She wasn't, but she doubted she'd have a choice. As if sensing she was tired, he didn't tease her when she reached for his hand. She sucked his blood clean from his thumb. The demon purred, watching her. She settled beside him again, comfortable in bed with him.

"Selyn has asked to see you," he said.

"I'll be happy to talk to her," she said. It was the first time Darkyn ever brought his daughter up. "Is she well?"

"Yes."

His voice never conveyed emotion. Deidre wasn't certain if there was any affection for his daughter, though his persistence in healing her was a sign of either care or obligation.

"Obligation," he replied. "She is mine. You are mine. Hell is mine."

"But you went to great lengths to help her. Isn't there some part of you that can care?" she asked, troubled again.

"Not the way humans do."

His quiet statement was difficult to swallow.

"Demons show affection. We are not capable of more," he added.

She shifted to see his face, surprised by his confession. Days before, he'd claimed nothing existed beyond physical pleasure for a demon.

"I can live with that," she said. "You show me affection in your own way, don't you?"

He nuzzled her neck in response.

"Did you... can I ask if you sent Wynn home?"

"I keep my terms," Darkyn replied. "He went home."

"I don't know how to feel about that," she said, chewing on her lip. She was almost angry enough with Wynn to wish he'd stayed here just a little longer.

"A man like that will find his way back here," Darkyn said.

"Probably. Speaking of difficult Immortals... what was Past-Death looking for?" she asked, puzzled. "I know there was more to why she sought me out but I don't understand what."

"Weakness. Willingness to negotiate. She knows she's lost and is desperate. It's common among those who deal. Another reason you won't deal without me. Your heart is too soft."

"I wasn't too soft on Wynn!" she exclaimed.

"You offered him a deal when none was needed, love. You could've waited a day for him to fail then cured Selyn."

"The thought occurred to me."

"Yet you offered him a deal. Lesson five: when you have the advantage already, don't deal. You will never deal outside of those we make in private. Your nature is too... pure."

"Like I couldn't..." she placed a hand over his heart "...even the first day, when I thought I had a chance to leave. You knew that though, didn't you?"

He tipped her chin up. His dark gaze gleamed.

"Without a doubt," he said with a cold smile. "I know what you are."

"It's not fair. It's way too easy for you to read me," she complained. "Don't you like a challenge?"

"You fight me where it counts. I look forward to great battles with you over the fate of the humans and fucking you into submission afterwards."

She blushed. Her breath caught at the idea of what he did to her, her blood quickening. He kissed her before pressing his bloody thumb to her mouth. Her body calmed instantly.

"You take no satisfaction out of seeing your enemies defeated?" he asked.

"Wynn and Deidre are not my enemies," Deidre replied. "But no, I take no satisfaction out of seeing someone hurting."

"They went to great lengths to hurt you."

"I know," Deidre whispered, frowning. "You and I are very different."

"We are," he agreed. "I do not understand how you feel as you do."

"Sometimes I don't either," she said, mentally evaluating the discussions she'd recently had with Wynn, Gabriel and Past-Death. "Everyone has something to say about you turning me into a sex-demon. I wish you hadn't done that."

"For my pleasure, not theirs," he replied, unconcerned.

"So you turn me into a seductress who isn't allowed to seduce anyone," she said.

If his sudden stillness wasn't a warning, his purr turned to a low, lethal growl.

"Only mine."

Deidre jumped. The sudden shift of power around him made her uneasy. She nudged his chin, partially to keep him from seeing her smile. He really did feel affection for her, if he was jealous. He lifted his head in blatant rejection.

"Don't be angry," she murmured. "I meant to tease." She nuzzled his neck the way he did to her when she was upset. He didn't move away this time, and she nipped him.

"Not about that," he said after a tense moment. His hands moved down her body, and he nudged her head aside.

"Okay," she said, relieved the danger was passed. He was irked. She wondered if it was because of the thought of her seducing someone else or because of her triumph at winning his affection, even if he beat her at every other thing. "That makes me happy."

Darkyn was silent. She assessed that – for the first time – he wasn't entirely certain how to react. His features were emotionless, his body not yet relaxed completely again. She took his face in her hands and traced his cheekbones and jawline with her fingers.

He kissed her then rolled away.

Deidre watched him, brow furrowed. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't himself either. She heard the rustling of clothing as he dressed. The light of the black fire was too dim for her to see much more than the outline of his form. Her eyes fell to the shape of the hourglass on her nightstand. With a glance at the demon lord, she stretched to grab it and rose.

He started to the door.

"Darkyn," she called softly.

He paused. Deidre approached him until close enough to feel his body heat. She held out the hourglass. Her heart beat rapidly at what it meant to surrender what had been her one hope to leave Hell.

"I don't need this," she voiced quietly.

He accepted it. It dissipated into black smoke in his hands. Her breathing quickened as she realized what she'd done. She felt his gaze on her but couldn't see him in the dim lighting of the room.

The demon lord gripped her neck. The action that once terrified her now made desire bloom in anticipation of what he'd do. Deidre waited.

The fire flared brighter, lighting up his body. When she looked up, he was watching her. He made no move to bite her or kiss her, simply studied her, his thumb stroking the pulse in her neck.

"You're not changing your mind, are you?" she asked uncertainly.

His slow, cunning smile was not what she wanted to see. His hand dropped. He peeled off his shirt. Instinctively, she reached out to feel his warm skin and trace the ridges of his abdomen. Darkyn turned his other side to her, and Deidre stared.

The familiar demon blood bond script ran down one arm from his shoulder to his elbow. Except that, on his body, it was her name written in black.

D

E

I

D

R

E

Speechless, she traced her fingers down the letters then looked into his eyes. She had been over every inch of his body numerous times without seeing the marking. He held her gaze without speaking.

"How long has it been there?" she managed.

"Under a day."

"So at any point up until then, you could've..." She swallowed hard.

"You were mine the night I let you drink from me. This is a formality of unwritten terms only," he said.

Stunned, she was silent, trying to digest what he was saying. He was serious when he claimed to want her. She was more than an obligation, if he chose to keep her when he didn't have to. She didn't exactly feel grateful to him, though, not with the emotional trauma he put her through. But the idea he did want her was almost a relief, another sign he was capable of providing at least some form of affection. She wasn't going to spend her eternity with someone who didn't care for her.

Darkyn replaced his shirt. When he was finished, he pulled her into his body and bit her hard.

Deidre winced. The pain soon turned to pleasure, and she melted against him. He didn't drink long, and she nuzzled his neck then found his lips with her own. This time, there was more than insatiable lust and need in his kiss. There was passion and a deep longing she innately understood only she was able to fill. Deidre felt tears on her cheeks once more. Incapable of human emotion, Darkyn was nonetheless expressing what demon emotions he had. His hands ran down her naked body possessively.

He withdrew and pressed his cheek to hers.

"Will you stay?" she asked, touched by the change in him.

"I cannot now. Later," he promised. "You can run for me."

She smiled. "Alright. I will."

He sidled away. Deidre watched him leave. She wiped her face then dressed, too distracted to feel the warmth of a certain deity as he appeared.

"How is my little fruit bat doing?"

She turned. Fate lit up the corner in which he stood brighter than the black fire could her room. He wore jeans and a t-shirt that outlined his lean frame.

"I don't know," she said, a familiar tremor of uncertainty fluttering through her. "I'm trying to figure out how I can want to be with him but not stomach what he does as the Dark One. Why are these Immortals and deities so messed up?"

"Imagine all the baggage a human has after one lifetime and multiply that by a few thousand," Fate replied. His multi-colored eyes swept over her. "You wouldn't believe the amount of repressed anger most Immortals have."

"I suppose. Why am I stuck in the middle?"

Fate glanced at her, amused. "Do you really want to be elsewhere?"

No. As much as it didn't make sense, as much as his day job terrified her... She wanted Darkyn, more so now that she knew he had a side – however tiny – that was capable of caring for her and only her.

She shook her head.

"By the way, I'm mad at you," she warned him. "You tricked me! Completely, totally, irrevocably tricked me into staying here to further your agenda and then lied about how I was safe when I had the demon marking."

"No, I tricked you into staying alive to further my agenda," he corrected her. "If Darkyn didn't want you, he never would've let that mark form on you. His mark is inconsequential."

"Then why not tell me that?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"You play with people's lives every day. But this is my life, and I'm sick of it!" Her face felt hot at his nonchalance. She approached him, glaring up at him.

"You can hit me." Fate gazed down at her, smiling. He opened his arms wide. "I don't mind. It's impossible to be angry at a seductress."

She planted her hands on her hips, tempted but not about to do it, now the she knew he wanted her to.

Fate laughed.

"You are the soul to a creature who had none," he said. "It's the only deal I ever lost that I didn't mind losing."

Deidre's anger deflated at the confirmation of Darkyn's thaw.

"You people have such a warped sense of... everything," she said.

"You're one of us now."

"Physically, maybe, but that's it. Are you here for any reason?" she asked suspiciously. "You always appear when something bad is about to happen."

"Keep that in mind," he said wisely. "I brought you something." He reached into his pocket and held out his hand. In it was a green soul, glowing faintly like an emerald under a jeweler's lamp.

"Omigod. Whose is that?" she asked, stepping back.

"Let's just say, you're going to need this," he replied. "When the time is right, you'll know what to do with it."

She almost refused but something about the look on his face made her hesitate. Cringing, she held out her hand. The only other soul she'd touched had told her its life story in a blink of the eye, terrifying her.

Fate deposited it into her hand. Nothing happened. She released her breath and placed it in the small pocket of her dress.

"I'm still waiting for my love tap. Or a bite," Fate said, winking. "Darkyn's not the only one who likes it rough."

Deidre shook her head and spun away, fed up with deities for the day. She didn't wait to see if he stayed or went but walked out of her room. Darkyn had mentioned Selyn. Curious to see how the girl was, Deidre walked three doors down and paused.

Her palms were sweaty at the thought of seeing Darkyn's daughter, but she wasn't certain why. Maybe because it made her stay here feel more permanent. Selyn was now a part of her world, her warped family.

She knocked. After a moment, the door cracked open. Selyn peeked out from the two inches she'd opened the door, her dark eyes identical to her father's.

"Hi," Deidre said awkwardly. "I, um, just came to –"

The teen's face lit up. Selyn wrenched the door open fast enough to startle Deidre. She motioned for Deidre to enter then closed the door and locked it as soon as she did.

Deidre stayed by the door, uncertain. Selyn hurried across the room to a pad of paper and pen that Wynn had clearly left behind, if his tight writing on the back cover was any indication. Carefully, Selyn wrote out something then passed it to Deidre.

"I can't really read... demon," Deidre said, staring blankly at the geometric writing.

Selyn's face fell.

"Is this how you talk to your father?" Deidre asked curiously.

The teen shook her head then tapped her temple.

"He reads your mind. I should've known." Deidre smiled. "Can you do that?"

Another shake of her head.

"Did Wynn say if you'll be able to talk again?"

Selyn nodded then blew out a breath. She pressed her hands together then pulled them apart about a foot.

"Um, after a while?" Deidre guessed.

Selyn nodded once more. She lowered the pen and paper, thoughtful gaze on Deidre. She nibbled on her lower lip with her tiny fangs. She was still too pale and her frame slender enough to indicate she needed some food to bring her back to a healthy weight. Deidre's gaze fell to the table in the corner. She didn't feel able to handle knowing what kind of food sat under a domed tray or what half-demons like Selyn did for blood.

Just the thought made Deidre feel ill.

The teen took Deidre's arm and circled her. Her cool fingers ran across Deidre's markings. She made a sound like a squeak.

Deidre faced her curiously. Selyn's smile was lopsided because of the unresponsive, scarred half of her face. Her eyes, however, glowed.

"You're happy about this," Deidre said.

A look of pained yearning crossed the girl's face, as if she wanted badly to speak but couldn't.

"I can see that. Your daddy can be scary."

Pride crossed Selyn's face. Deidre gave an unsettled laugh. How long would it take her to adapt to a culture where the ability to cause fear and pain was so revered?

Deidre. She was almost grateful for the summons then anxious in the next breath. It wasn't Darkyn, and the vision accompanying it was from the shadow world. Like when Past-Death summoned her.

She wasn't ready to face the former goddess again.

"I have to go," she said grudgingly. "Someone is summoning me."

Selyn frowned. She tapped her chest. Deidre looked at her quizzically. The teen took her arm then nudged her to walk.

"You want to come?" Deidre asked.

Another nod.

"Okay. Are you allowed out of Hell?"

At the look of offense, Deidre almost laughed. Instead, she called a portal.

Deidre stepped through just as Past-Death did. Selyn crowded her, almost tripping them both by how close she was.

Past-Death didn't look in any better shape than when Deidre saw her last. Her intent gaze was inquisitive, her eyebrows raised in a silent question. Deidre had the sense the woman was surprised to see her.

"Hi, Deidre," Deidre said, puzzled. "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon."

"Um, I thought you summoned me," Past-Death replied.

Deidre shook her head. She was almost relieved. Maybe someone had accidentally summoned her, and she wasn't about to have yet another confrontation today.

Past-Death had frozen. A flicker of alarm went across her features, warning Deidre something was wrong.

"Deidre, I think we need to –" Past-Death started, backing towards her portal.

Alerted by Past-Death's sudden tension, Deidre turned and took Selyn's arm. She didn't know what the former deity sensed, but she wasn't going to stick around too long to find out. She pushed Selyn towards the portal to Hell.

Two forms stepped between them and the portal, blocking it. Deidre gripped Selyn's arm more tightly, fear spiraling through her. She didn't recognize the two men before her, but they were dressed much like the two death dealers that tried to turn her over to Harmony in her old apartment.

Deidre glanced over her shoulder and froze. Two people stood between Past-Death and the yellow portal leading back to the human world.

"Harmony," Deidre said at the sight of the female death dealer.

It was a trap. Suddenly, Deidre wished she'd left Selyn in Hell. The girl had started to tremble, no doubt reminiscing about the last time she'd dealt with Immortals. Deidre squeezed her arm in reassurance, not at all certain what Harmony wanted. Last time, the death dealer wasn't interested in her.

"What do you want?" Past-Death demanded of Harmony.

"You aren't Death anymore." Harmony punched Past-Death hard.

Deidre flinched as the small blonde woman went down. Harmony bent over her, saying something Deidre wasn't able to hear. Gabriel's mate was struggling to sit up.

"Deidre, are you okay?" Deidre called.

"Yes." The response was more of a grunt. Past-Death managed to stand. She faced Harmony. "What's going on?"

"Simple. Because of Darkyn's bitch, I've got a price on my head from the Dark One. I didn't betray Gabriel to be stuck in the human world," Harmony said. She snatched Past-Death's arm and hauled her closer to Deidre. "Who is this?"

All eyes fell to Selyn, who was shaking. The growl low in her chest sounded more like a rattle.

"A servant," Deidre said, not wanting them to hurt the poor girl.

"Kill her," Harmony said, motioning to one of the other dealers.

He grabbed Selyn and hauled her a few feet away. The panicked teen stared pleadingly at Deidre. She started forward when the dealer pulled out a knife.

"No!" Deidre cried, heart racing. "I lied. She's Darkyn's daughter."

Harmony stared at her then at the teen girl. Suddenly, she smiled.

"Perfect. Even better," Harmony said. "Darkyn's bitch will get us into Hell. Gabe's will get us into the underworld. Once we're there, we'll have all the leverage we need."

Deidre looked from Harmony to Selyn, wishing she knew how to diffuse the situation in a way that Selyn was able to escape. The girl didn't need any more trauma, and Darkyn would unleash Hell if one of them disappeared and the other was dead. Her thoughts went to what Darkyn taught her about dealing.

"Will you leave her?" she asked. "I have the power of Hell at my back. I can grant you almost anything in exchange for her life." She spoke carefully, aware no one knew about her private agreement with Darkyn that disallowed her ability to make deals. She didn't know what happened if she tried to make one, but she'd do what it took to protect the terrified teen.

"I will, too," Past-Death added. "Any deal I make will be sealed by Death's magic."

Harmony was quiet for a moment. Deidre exchanged a look with her look-alike.

"Darkyn made a deal with Gabriel for your soul, Harmony," she said. "Whoever finds you first, Darkyn keeps you."

The death dealer paled. Deidre guessed the death dealer knew enough about Darkyn to fear him. She definitely feared him, and she was shown mercy by the Dark One.

"Let the girl go, and I'll make sure your soul goes where it should, right beside mine," Past-Death said with calmness Deidre envied.

"Or you can risk an eternity with the Dark One personally overseeing your day-to-day... activities," Deidre seconded.

Harmony appeared indecisive.

"The soul of a deity or former deity has special standing," Past-Death continued. "Yours will remain right beside mine."

Deidre studied her, hearing the carefully chosen words. Seeing Past-Death, it was hard to remember that the human with the mussed hair and tear-reddened eyes had spent thousands of years cultivating deals. She probably knew many of the same rules Darkyn did about creating terms.

Harmony couldn't know that Past-Death's soul was destined for Hell in a matter of days, or more specifically, to Deidre herself. Darkyn had bargained with Gabriel for Harmony, and Past-Death just sealed the deal for her soul. Deidre waited apprehensively. Right now, no part of her was willing to protect Harmony's soul from Darkyn the way she planned to Past-Death's.

Harmony tossed her head towards the death dealer holding Selyn. She held out a hand to Past-Death. Deidre took it, and they shook, the deal sealed with the magic of Gabriel. Deidre stared at Past-Death, wondering why the former goddess was trying to help the daughter of the Dark One that meant to crush her.

Whatever Past-Death's reasoning, Deidre was grateful. She couldn't stand the thought of seeing Selyn hurt, as much because of everything the girl had been through as the thought of hurting Darkyn. Even if he was incapable of feeling real pain.

The death dealer tossed the teen demoness through a yellow portal, onto the mortal plane rather than into Hell. Deidre gasped, stunned. She was about to demand to know where the girl was sent when Past-Death's words jarred her.

"She's alive."

Deidre swallowed hard and nodded, reining in her panic. Selyn could find her way home. Nothing else mattered except that she was alive.

"If either of you summons your mates, I'll kill the other. If you try to alert anyone or escape, I'll peel your skin from your bodies and watch you scream," Harmony warned. "Got it?"

Deidre nodded. So did Past-Death.

"Now, we're going to Hell."

One of the death dealers took Deidre's arm and waited. After a moment, she realized none of them could see the portal to Hell the way she could. She pointed and started forward. The death dealer yanked her back against him, his one hand roaming down her side.

With a sickening feeling, she realized she'd never asked Darkyn what she meant to: how to turn off the seductress or at least, defend herself against those drawn to her. She gave a sidelong glance to Harmony as the death dealer joined them.

All of them had to know they'd just sealed their own fates. No matter what happened from here on out, neither Darkyn nor Gabriel would ever let them live after this.

For a moment, Deidre pitied them. As noble as Gabriel was, he wouldn't hesitate to turn over anyone who hurt his mate to Darkyn. This much she knew.

She prayed for Selyn to find her way home safely then led them through the portal into Hell.

Rhyn Eternal Series

"Gabriel's Hope"

"Deidre's Death"

"Darkyn's Mate"

"The Underworld" (2014)

