"I WANT THE ALL-KEY, ANYA."

Tensing at the sudden intrusion, Anya faced her nemesis, her heart pounding inside her chest. Here he was, up close and personal. Cronus, the brand-new king of gods. A vile bastard. And the guy who'd ordered Lucien to hunt her down and slay her like an animal.

Hey, that'd make a great singles ad, she thought drily. Powerful SWM with a penchant for ordering hits, looking for SWF to help rule the world. Interested? Stroke my ego and give me all you hold dear.

"I want an eternity of peace," she replied, "but we don't always get what we want. Do we?"

His teeth clinked together.

Anya had come here to change her clothing, which she'd done a few minutes ago, going from baggy to sexy in minutes. Thank the - not the gods, that was for sure - Cronus hadn't materialized then. She didn't want any man but Lucien seeing her naked.

Lucien.

She'd been so preoccupied with thoughts of him that she hadn't realized Cronus had made an appearance in her Z¨¹rich apartment until he'd spoken. That wasn't like her. Usually she knew. Usually she sensed and ran.

She could have flashed just then, but she didn't. Suddenly she wanted to hear what the big dumb-dumb had to say. Did he mean to complain about Lucien?

"The key," Cronus snapped. "Give it to me."

"We've covered this before, bossie baby. My answer hasn't changed."

He circled around her, facing her, glaring at her, so close his thick silver beard tickled her chin. His long white robe brushed her legs and his ambrosia scent wafted around her. Power radiated from him.

The Greeks had been powerful, too. Zeus with his lightning and Hera with her penchant for jealous revenge. But this being had mowed them down as if they were insignificant flies and would love to do the same to her.

Unexpectedly, he straightened. His expression cleared. "I have seen your interactions with Death."

"So?" she said, trying not to reveal an ounce of trepidation. Which interactions had he witnessed? The idea that he might have watched the two of them in Lucien's bedroom revolted her. "What of it?"

"You like him."

"Again, so? I like a lot of men." Please don't hear the lie in my voice.

"Willingly give me the All-Key, and I will bind him to your side. He will be yours to command for all eternity."

Oh, that was tempting. Cronus probably had no idea just how great a gift he was offering. Finally, she would be on equal footing with a man. To have Lucien for as long as she wanted him, to simply ask him to do something and know he would comply. But she'd spent centuries fighting to prevent such a fate herself. She couldn't wish it on another, especially a man as proud as Lucien. Plus, he was already bound by his demon. Plus, he'd only just been released from Maddox's death-curse. Taking even more of his freedom would be criminal.

"Nope. Sorry. I'd be tired of him within a week. Right now his attempts to kill me are amusing, and I'm enjoying toying with his affections, but..." She shrugged as if she were already tired of it. "Why don't you just take the key from me?" She batted her lashes at him innocently. "Why don't you kill me for it?"

His scowl returned. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe a wee bit." With the taunt, she heard her father's voice in her head as clearly as if he'd spoken the words yesterday, though too many years to count had passed. Men will try to kill you for what I am about to give you, because they'll wrongly think it's the way to win it from you.

Kill me. For what? I don't understand. She'd shaken her head. Never mind, just don't give me whatever it is. I don't want any more men after me. Just let me go.

And risk your being found and imprisoned again? No. Soon you will realize the key's reward is worth its hazards. You will never be bound again. You will be able to travel anywhere you desire with only a thought. You will be free. Always.

Key? Father -

Listen to me. If they can kill you, they can snatch it, but he who strikes the death blow will be rendered powerless for the rest of his life. Because of that, many will leave you alone. Some, though, will forget the consequences in their lust to control the key's powers.

Are you listening? he'd chided, shaking her. Be vigilant. It has to be given freely for the recipient to remain strong. But then you, the giver, will be the one rendered powerless. For the key is alive, part of you, and absorbs pieces of you that will be transferred should you pass it on to another. Understand now?

No!

Once you take it, never let it go. It is yours, my gift to you. Proof of my love.

Teary-eyed, she had opened her mouth to ask if he would be rendered powerless by giving the mysterious key to her, but he'd already taken matters into his own hands, so to speak. He'd already begun to weaken.

"I'm not going to use it against you," she told Cronus now. "Well, not again."

"As you said, we have covered this. You will."

"Only for my parents. Which means, only if you capture them again."

"I am unwilling to take your word. You are a known liar."

There was no denying that. Not without lying. "Look, we both know you want Lucien to kill me, making him powerless while you keep your strength. The key will be up for grabs, but he'll be too weak to make a play for it, leaving the field wide open for you. I could tell him. He might tell you to go fuck yourself then."

"You do not believe that or you would have told him already."

Maybe. Maybe not. She suspected she hadn't told Lucien not because of what he'd do to Cronus but because of what he'd do to her. Like walk away from her for good. Besides that, would he even have believed her? He probably would have thought she'd made the whole thing up to keep him at bay.

"We both know it will not stop him from obeying me," Cronus said. "He loves his warriors too much to watch them suffer, even if the price of their freedom is his own."

"So why hasn't he obeyed you already, huh?"

"You have bewitched him."

She should be so lucky. She sighed, the sound part exasperation, part remembered pleasure. Lucien...Even now he was in bed. Naked. Did he still want her?

His desire had been a thing of beauty, and she'd been eager to see it through to the end. To taste him again. She, too, probably would have climaxed again, for just the thought of sucking him to another orgasm made her tremble.

Trying to distract herself, she flipped her hair over one shoulder and eyed Cronus. Time to get his mind off Lucien. "Having the key might - might - fortify Tartarus and make it the stronghold it once was, locking the Greeks inside forevermore so that they don't escape like you did. But where is the fun in that? Where's the adventure?"

"I lost my sense of adventure long ago." He waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I will not be overthrown again. I will not have the Greeks escaping, and I will not have you aiding them. To ensure my continued reign, I need the key."

"Listen, you're not the only one with problems. I'm hunted on a daily basis, remember? Giving up the key means losing my strength, my abilities, my memories - perhaps even my freedom. If I'm ever locked away again, I won't be able to escape."

"I have offered you my protection in the past. You have always turned me down."

"And I will continue to do so." He could change his mind. He could demand further payment from her to continue protecting her. He could forget about her.

"Tell me what you want, then, and it is yours. Things do not have to end badly for you."

"There's nothing I want." Things were perfect for her right now. No one could bind her, and no one could kill her without severe consequences. She had a kind-of boyfriend who rocked her world, even if they couldn't seal the deal. Why give any of that up?

Besides, anything she wanted she could procure on her own. And she did have a plan for getting Cronus off her trail. Those artifacts the Lords were searching for. Cronus wanted them back. They were a source of his power, and as she well knew, Cronus loved him some power.

Once she had them - and used them to find Pandora's box - she'd trade them for that vow of protection. Even from him. For herself, for Lucien. Best of all, she'd still have the key.

She studied her nails. "Mind if I take off now? This conversation is boring and I have places to go, yada, yada, yada."

Cronus's eyes narrowed. "One day in the near future I will know what it takes to humble you. I will know what it takes to crush you. And when I do, you will wish you had given the key to me this day."

He disappeared in a melodramatic flash of blinding blue light. Anya stumbled forward, knees suddenly going weak. She scrubbed a hand down her face, feeling the first tremors of anxiety. Antagonizing the king of gods had not been smart, but it was not in her nature to cower or obey.

I will know what it takes to crush you, he'd said, and she believed him. All Cronus had to do was threaten to destroy Lucien, and she feared she would give him anything. Maybe even the key. She couldn't let Cronus know how much Lucien was coming to mean to her, that her days and nights were filled with thoughts of him.

Cronus had to suspect, at least a little, she realized. Why else offer her Lucien's eternal affections?

Shit, she thought. She'd have to do something to throw the big cheese off. Would ignoring Lucien, painful as it sounded, do the trick? Or would Cronus see the longing on her face, the torment in her eyes? Hell, would she even be able to stay away from Lucien? She hadn't managed the feat yet.

Wouldn't be wise to keep her distance, she decided. She would find the artifacts faster working with him rather than against him. Relief and need trembled through her. I get to be with him again.

Yeah, you get to be with him, but you can't let Cronus see how much you care.

She frowned, relief fading. Did that mean there could be no more physical pleasure?

The answer proved grim. Kissing would be fine because she'd kissed others. But anything else would merely prove how special Lucien was to her. Her shoulders sagged. I'll have to be my usual flippant self and keep things light. No more touching, no more skin-to-skin contact.

"Fucking Cronus," she grumbled to cover her sudden tears.

LUCIEN HAD WORKED HIMSELF into a fit of rage.

It had happened only once before, a prolonged fury that lasted several days after Mariah's death, and he'd vowed never to let it happen again. The destruction had been too great. But as he'd watched Anya with Cronus, he'd been unable to stop himself from slipping into the dark throes of fury.

Now red glowed behind his eyes; a cold sweat slicked his skin. Death roared like a banshee inside his mind. His breath was so hot it was like fire as it pushed from his nose. He was more demon than man, darkness clouding his every thought.

He'd already hacked the bed to bits, freeing the chain from the headboard but not from himself. After that, he'd blazed a path of destruction through the entire house. Because the chain was still attached to his wrist, he couldn't dematerialize. Didn't matter, though. He was too busy seething. Too busy imagining death and blood and killing. Had one of the other warriors walked into the room just then, he would have attacked. Would have been unable to stop himself. And wouldn't have cared.

Cronus could have killed Anya, and there would have been no way for Lucien to aid her. He hadn't been able to help Mariah, and the guilt had tormented him ever since. Anya, though...He roared, loud and long.

"Uh, you wanna explain this?" a woman asked when he quieted.

Hearing the voice, he wheeled around with a snarl. He saw the outline of a lithe female form. Pale hair. Delicate shoulders. He clutched a sword in his hand. Kill, kill, kill.

Scowling, he stomped toward her.

She backed away. "Lucien?"

Lifting the sword high above his head, he gave it a menacing twirl. KILL. The tip flew down, aiming for the woman's neck. She must have moved because the sword hit the floor rather than flesh. He hissed.

A moment later, something tapped his shoulder from behind.

He swung around. A fist connected with his nose. His head whipped to the side, and warm liquid rushed down his lips and chin.

"You better calm down, Death, or you're going to make me mad."

He lifted the sword again, but it was knocked from his grip. With another roar, he leapt forward, grabbing the woman. He shook her, meaning to snap her in half.

"Lucien," she said, and this time there was a calming, hypnotic quality to her voice. "Lucien. Seriously. I'm not a rag doll. Calm down. Tell me what's wrong."

Finally a sense of awareness slithered into his mind and man raced ahead of demon. His captive's skin was hot - he recognized that heat. She smelled like strawberries and cream - he recognized that fragrance.

"Tell sweet little Anya what's going on in that fat head of yours," she cooed. Soft hands caressed his cheeks. "Pretty please, with a cherry on top of me."

Anya.

The name echoed in his mind, cracking the red haze and allowing light inside. He blinked his eyes and a perfect pixie came into focus. A snowfall of hair. Bright blue eyes. Pink cheeks.

"Anya?"

"Right here, lover."

Dear gods. He glanced around the room, saw the destruction and the blood. His blood. He'd cut his hands, he recalled, when he'd punched the walls. Regret slammed into him.

Not again.

"Did I hurt you?" He returned his attention to the woman in his arms, studying her intently. Her skin was rosy soft, not bruised, and her eyes were gleaming. She wore a tight black T-shirt and equally tight black pants, neither of which were ripped. Glittery black heels encased her feet, open at the toes and showcasing black-painted toenails.

"Did I hurt you?" he repeated.

"Would you care?" she asked, head tilting to the side. "I mean, you've wanted to in the past."

He pressed his lips together. He could not let her know how much he was coming to admire her. How much he was coming to need her. I think your tongue on her clitoris told her plenty. Only when he'd stolen that key from her and her life was safe would he admit to such feelings.

"Never mind," she said airily. "The answer wouldn't matter anyway." She turned her back on him, strode to the couch he'd hacked to bits and settled on the tattered arm. "Really, what was that about? I've never seen a more demonic display. Your eyes were red." She shuddered. "Freaky stuff, and not in a good way."

"I told you once not to make me angry." Gods, he couldn't believe he had journeyed so far toward the dark side of his nature. He was always so careful. The thought of Anya hurt, however...He had to cut off another roar.

He would never have been able to kill her, Lucien at last admitted. Not even in the beginning. It was disgusting, really, how protective he felt of her. He was as bad as Maddox. "What do you want from me, Anya? Why did you come back?"

"First, to do this." She was tsking under her tongue as she stood and sauntered to him. She gripped his chained wrist and drew it into a muted beam of moonlight streaming in from the window. With her other hand, she waved it over the metal.

A bright amber radiance glowed from between her fingers. He felt warmth, felt the chain snap open and heard it fall to the floor.

"The All-Key?" he asked, shocked.

"Yes." She dropped her arm. "You going to tell me what made you so angry?"

"I saw you talking with Cronus."

"What! You saw? How?"

"I do not know how, just that I saw you, in my mind. What did he say?"

She blinked at him. "He wanted the key."

That damned key! "Tell me why it is a light that comes from inside you." He'd expected metal.

"No. What I will tell you is that if you kill me, the key will drain your powers. There. Now you know. That's why Cronus wants you to do his dirty work. And before you say anything, I never planned to tell you because one, I had no intention of dying and two, you would have thought I was lying to keep you away. But now you know. You can't say I didn't warn you."

He wasn't going to kill her, so the warning mattered little. "How is Cronus going to take the key from you if it is inside you?"

"You already know that part. You kill me, you weaken, he swoops in and takes it from my poor dead body."

"So you have to die for someone else to possess it?"

"No. I could willingly give it."

"Then give it to him, woman!"

"I give it to him, I weaken. Permanently. Worse, I won't be able to flash. Get it now?"

Oh, yes. Suddenly he did get it, and he almost vomited. He couldn't steal the key from her without killing her and she couldn't give it to Cronus without deteriorating, therefore Lucien had nothing to trade the god in exchange for Anya's life. What in hell was he going to do?

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Anya glanced around the room. "While throwing your tantrum, did you destroy our supplies for the Arctic?"

"Yes."

"I can't believe I once thought you were too controlled. Seriously, learn some self-discipline, for gods' sake. You should be embarrassed."

"I am."

"Good."

Think about the key later, when you are alone and not consumed by the scents of strawberries and destruction. "Before you left, you said you wanted to discuss something with me. What?"

"I forgot."

He doubted she had - Anya forgot nothing - but he allowed the lie without comment. "Did you return to spend a few more hours in bed?"

Her cheeks colored prettily. "I'm here to get my stuff because I'm ready to start looking for those artifacts. I'm bored, after all, and it sounds deliciously dangerous, trekking through snow in search of an ancient relic."

There was something in her eyes - too bright a gleam, maybe. A forced casualness, perhaps. Again, she was not speaking true. "You left me for Strider to find naked and chained to a bed," he said to lighten her mood. Perhaps then she would tell him the truth. "Have I thanked you for that?"

"No, you haven't." She grinned slowly, her amusement genuine this time. "Did he likie?"

"He must have. He took a picture." Mortification heated Lucien from the collarbone up as he remembered.

Anya laughed outright, and the sound of that laughter was magical. His skin tingled, and he felt as if he'd just conquered the entire world.

"What did you wish to discuss?" he asked gently. "Tell me true."

Her smile faded. "I wanted to tell you...I wanted to say...I'm not sure I like your attitude."

"I am not sure I know what you mean."

"Just, I don't know. Don't be so ooey-gooey nice to me. It's nauseating."

"Nauseating?"

"You an echo now? Yeah. Nauseating. Jeez."

He crossed his arms over his chest and peered down at her, confused. "Why are you acting like this? After the way you begged me to keep licking you?"

Her breath hitched, and she backed away from him. Just a step, but he didn't like it. "I realized that was a mistake, that's all," she said.

What was going on here? "Do you no longer trust me?"

"No."

"Why? I could have entered you then, and we both know it. But I didn't. And I think we both know you were close to asking me for more."

Her eyes glowered up at him. "I was toying with you. Faking it."

He, too, glowered. "I'll believe a lot of things about you, sweetcakes, but that isn't one of them. Not anymore."

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard." She brushed a piece of lint off her shoulder.

"Do not make me prove my words."

"Fuck you." Another brush of her shoulder. Her hand was shaking, he noticed.

"You would like that, would you not? If I fucked you?"

Giving up her casual facade, she slapped him, palm dragging against his cheek. "One, you shouldn't talk like that. And two, don't make me state the obvious. I...I...felt sorry for you, obviously." The last was croaked. Tears even sprang into her eyes.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He could feel the urge to hurt building inside of him again. Hot, hungry, begging for a chance to render more damage. To destroy. He'd have liked to tell himself that Anya was lying about this - he had felt her pleasure, her joy in his touch - but old insecurities died hard.

She was beautiful and could have her pick of equally beautiful men. Perhaps she'd wanted him earlier for the novelty of lying with an ugly man, didn't want him now that she'd done so, and thought this was the best way to cut him loose.

"I'm not going to try to kill you again, so you can cease trying to soften me," he told her.

"How nice for me," she muttered, looking away. There was a guilty flush to her skin.

"Just know that if you hit me again, I will hit you back," he lied. He would never be able to hurt her, and he knew it.

"A girl can hope," she said silkily, changing tactics.

His anger sizzled another degree. "Stay here or go home, but I'm going to purchase more supplies and I want to do it alone."

Her shoulders squared, and her chin lifted. "I'm going with you, so there."

"No. You are not." He shook his head. "I am done with you right now."

She ran her tongue over her lips. "Whatever. I know someone. He lives in Greenland, and he has everything we'll need. We'll pop into his place, borrow what we want and make our way into the Arctic."

He. The word pounded through Lucien's mind, stirring up a storm of jealousy. "Who is he? And why did you not pop us to him earlier rather than dragging me to Switzerland?"

"He's my friend, and I didn't take you to him because I wanted you to see my - I wanted to shop with you and thought we had plenty of time," she said, kicking at a shard of glass on the floor. "Damn it! I'm looking at my feet again."

"Well, stop." She'd thought they had plenty of time, which meant she didn't think so anymore. Why? "Did Cronus threaten you?" The moment the words left him, Anya's behavior began to make sense.

She turned away from him, her back stiff. "As if I care about that bastard's threats."

Oh, yes. Cronus had indeed threatened her. "What did he say to you?"

"Stop, just stop. Cronus said nothing important. Besides, what's between me and another guy isn't really any of your business, is it? Now, do you want to visit William or not?"

"Not. I don't want anyone knowing what we're looking for. Tell me what Cronus said to you."

"William won't even know we're there. Promise. And damn it, Cronus said nothing."

"You mean to steal from this William?"

"Yes. So are you ready or not?" she asked coolly.

He studied her. The woman in front of him wasn't the woman he'd kissed and tasted earlier. She was harder, more distant. He didn't like it, but did not know how to change her back.

Lucien wished he had the strength to challenge the god king here and now. He wished he had the strength to walk away from Anya for good. She was tying him in knots. But despite what he'd claimed a few minutes ago, he did not want to be alone. Did not want to be without her.

As if sensing his capitulation, she swung around and gave him a pinky wave. She was pale, her eyes sad, but her lips were smiling. "See you there, Flowers."

Lucien didn't follow right away. He gathered his daggers and his Glock, checked the chamber, saw that it was loaded. No telling who this mysterious William was. To be honest, though, his identity didn't really matter. Lucien already hated him.

Maybe, while in Greenland, Death would be summoned to take the bastard's soul.

A warrior could hope, anyway.

And then, right on cue, Death did summon him. Unfortunately, it was to the States, so neither of them were happy. Lucien sighed. He quickly strapped on all his weapons and dematerialized. Anya and her mystery man would have to wait.

HOW LONG CAN I KEEP THIS UP? Anya wondered darkly. The hurt on Lucien's face when she'd claimed to have felt sorry for him had nearly undone her.

She'd actually felt like crying. Still did. Taking a page from Cronus's book, she'd determined his weakness and had exploited it. If you can't resist him, you have to make him resist you.

Rather than pop into William's home, she flashed to his porch and waited for Lucien. Ice-cold wind instantly slapped her mostly-bare skin. A hard shiver racked her. Shoulda changed, dummy. But she'd been eager to escape Lucien, if only for a moment, before he discovered her lies for what they were.

A minute passed, and then another. Lucien remained - frustratingly - absent. If she stood out here any longer, her lips would turn blue, damn it, and that wasn't a good shade for her. Where was he? She couldn't follow his energy like he followed hers, and that really sucked. Had she pushed him too far? Had he decided not to come? To go out on his own?

He had. Oh, he had. Why, that wretched beast!

Well, what did you expect? You were cruel to him.

I had to be.

Before her libido could work up a retort, Lucien finally appeared. He landed behind her. She didn't see him; she felt him. Quick as a snap, her entire body relaxed. Don't look, don't look. A peek at those mismatched eyes, and she might very well throw herself in his arms, sobbing an apology.

Remaining in place was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. After the way she'd treated him, he might be glad for her restraint, though.

"What took you so long?" she asked, doing her best to keep the censure from her tone.

"I do have responsibilities, Anya." His neutral voice mirrored hers.

Still upset with her, was he? It was for the best, but oh, how she wished otherwise. "So Death did a little phoning home?" Despite her breeziness, she experienced a wave of compassion. "How many souls did you have to take this time?"

"Twelve."

She hated that he'd gone alone. Numb as he tried to make himself when shepherding souls, she wasn't fooled. He probably had stress lines around his eyes and mouth. Don't look! Unable to stop herself, she reached back and squeezed his hand. He didn't pull away, but brought her hand to his lips.

A warm tingle rushed through her, and she melted. How, after everything, could he still treat her tenderly? Gods, she wanted to kick her own ass. He deserved so much better than she could ever give him. Even if it were safe for her to drop the aloof act, at best she would be a lover who couldn't even go all the way.

Just get this over with. "I decided we should talk to William first. Don't worry, he won't spill your secrets." Gulping, she knocked on the towering, arched double doors before Lucien could protest. Curving red-and-black serpents were etched over their entire surface. A moment passed. Another. No answer. She knocked again, harder this time.

"This is a nice home," Lucien remarked. At least he didn't yell at her for making him meet William.

"Yes." The house wound in a half circle around a snow-covered lawn. There were points on the roof that stretched all the way to the night sky. "Willie would have it no other way, the egotistical ass."

A porch light flipped on, chasing away the shadows. One of the doors was pulled open, and William's dark, beautiful head peeked around it.

"Anya?"

She heard Lucien utter a low, menacing growl as the half-clad warrior stepped outside and gathered her into his arms for a hug. "Hiya, angel," she said. "Can we come in? It's freaking freezing out here."

"Wear more clothing next time," Lucien snapped behind her.

William remained in place and flicked him a curious glance, then arched a dark, questioning brow at Anya.

"My flavor of the week," she explained, hating herself. Lucien was so much more than that, but she couldn't risk admitting it aloud. "You're looking good, sugar." And he was. He was tall and ungodly handsome with mystic symbols tattooed on his bare chest.

More than that, he radiated sex. Raw, down-and-dirty, nothing-held-back sex - which was what had gotten him sentenced to eternity in Tartarus. He'd pleasured Hera and a few thousand others, and when Hera learned about those thousand others...heads had rolled.

Right now, William's pants were unsnapped as if he'd hastily tugged them on. Obviously, he'd been doing more than just radiating.

"I'm looking good? Good?" William laughed. "I've never looked better, and I know it. Get in here and warm up." He moved out of the way.

She sailed past him, Lucien close at her heels. "Lucy, this is Willie. He's a sexual deviant and spent a little time in the cell next to mine before some sucker paid his bond and set him free. A woman, no doubt. The moment William left, he forgot about me and failed to post my bond."

"There was no bond for you."

"Excuses, excuses. You always did look out for number one. Willie, this is Lucy. He's mine."

When she realized what she'd just said, she groaned. That little confession had slipped from her without permission. Stomach knotting, she swung around to assess Lucien's reaction. His features were blank, and he was staring at William.

"I am Lucien, not Lucy."

"I'm William, but you can call me Sexy. Everyone does."

Other than that, the two men didn't acknowledge each other in any way.

"O-kay. This is awkward," she sang, acting as if she hadn't a care. "Someone say something. Please."

"Have you ever been Anya's - what did she call it - flavor of the week?" Lucien asked.

William snorted. "I wish. And it wasn't from lack of trying on my part."

Lucien looked to her for verification, and she shrugged. She should have draped herself over William but couldn't bring herself to touch anyone but Lucien that intimately. "He's not my type, all right." She added drily, "He's never tried to kill me."

Lucien glared at her.

"Is that what it takes?" William laughed. "If so, I'll - "

"You will not touch her," Lucien snapped.

Anya blinked in surprise. Two voices had emerged from Lucien's lips. Both had been dangerous; both had been lethal. Had she just heard his demon? She shivered in arousal. This man was hard enough to resist when he was swinging a sword at her. When he acted possessive, it was downright foreplay.

Her legs started shaking, for gods' sake.

"So what are you doing here?" William asked.

"William," a woman suddenly called, drawing everyone's attention.

"We're still waiting," another whined.

Anya leveled a grin at the sexpot. "Two at once now?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "I couldn't decide which one I wanted, so I settled on both."

"How magnanimous of you." Her gaze slid up the stairway behind him and latched on to the two robe-clad women on the landing. They were peering down, hair in complete disarray, skin rosy. If only that were me, beckoning Lucien. "Well, don't keep them waiting."

"Make yourself at home," William told her. He moved to kiss her cheek but quickly backed away when Lucien snarled. "See you in the morning, Annie Love."

"Love?" Lucien spat.

William's backward stride increased in speed and he held up his hands, but he was grinning. "Teasing. I was only teasing."

"We need to borrow some stuff," Anya called, grabbing his attention. "That's why we're here. Not that I don't love to visit, of course."

"I'm amazed you didn't just steal everything you needed."

"I would have," she said, pointing her thumb in Lucien's direction, "but the big guy frowns on theft for some reason."

"I do not. Not anymore," Lucien said. "You need it."

"He'll have to get used to it if he's going to hang with you. Later." William turned to the stairs and bounded up, two steps at a time.

"Oh, Willie. Side note here," she called, halting him. "I'm kinda being hunted by the gods and - " for Lucien's benefit, she paused for dramatic effect " - the demon of Death. By coming here, I might have brought war and chaos to your doorstep. You okay with that?"

"Totally. What's a visit from Anya without a little chaos?" He wound his arms around the women and patted their asses. "We'll talk more in the morning, 'kay?"

The women giggled. Ugh. Giggling. That disgusted Anya. She might talk like a sorority girl, but she would never lower herself to giggling like one. And then the trio disappeared around the corner, and she forgot all about them.

"Well, you heard the man," she said, turning to Lucien.

"We get to make ourselves at home. Let's start grabbing what we need."

Lucien crowded her with his big body, closing all distance between them and pushing her against the wall. He was glaring at her so intensely that she lost her air of forced ease. "What?"

"The only thing we're going to do is finish what we started."