Because...just because! After weeks of traveling outside of Amaranthia--weeks away from Gillian and days in Budapest--he'd made no progress unearthing William's location.
How much time had passed for Gillian, Cameron and Winter? And Sin, who continued to rule the Connachts unchallenged? About three hundred years would be his guess.
Had Gillian forgiven Puck for breaking her wee finger?
The memory of his actions sickened him. How could he have done such a thing?
Despite the few weeks--for him--their bond had strengthened as if they'd been together for centuries. Which they had, according to her timetable. He felt as if he'd known her forever. As if he'd missed her forever. As if he'd craved her forever.
He wanted her back. Now.
How had Gillian changed? What was she like? Still sweet...or hardened? What trials had she faced without his aid and protection?
Raw instinct burned inside him, birthing a need to commit violence against anyone who had harmed her.
During the first few hours outside of Amaranthia, many years had passed for Gillian. During that time, she had suffered terrible injuries. He knew, because he'd suffered the injuries with her. One second he'd been fine, the next multiple bones had snapped for no apparent reason. Bruises had formed and vanished. Twice his hands had fallen off his wrists. Talk about awkward. Once, he'd lost a foot. However, between one heartbeat and the next, his body had grown new appendages.
What had happened to her? Why hadn't Cameron or Winter saved her from pain?
Along with the biggies, he also worried about the small things. Had Gillian gotten enough rest? Had she eaten properly? Did she laugh anymore? Had the kindling been wiped from her eyes? Or had she finally caught fire and burned?
Rage rose up strong, a battering ram to his calm. Why had he not made a clean break with her, with no promises lingering between them? Why had he insisted on a new deal? Why had he kissed her?
The woman had him twisted up, that kiss playing on constant repeat inside his head. The taste of her as decadent as her scent, all poppiberries and seduction. The feel of her, all softness and heat.
Did she hate him still, or had the kiss won her over?
Guilt pricked him. Of course she still hated him. He'd tricked, tortured, abandoned and lied to her.
One side of him said: Will make it up to her as soon as I return.
The other replied: Oh, really? I'll make it up to her, with William at my side?
Every muscle in Puck's body knotted, the rage gaining new ground. The thought of Gillian and William together again...
I think I'd rather pardon Sin for his crime against me.
Common sense balked. Would you? Because that is your only other option. Allowing your treacherous brother to destroy your clan, and your realm.
SNARL.
Inhale, exhale. Puck scoured a hand down his face. You are nothing but a nuisance, fiend.
And Puck had better things to do than listen to a tantrum. Or debate the wisdom of his plan. A short while ago, he'd uncovered a lead to William's whereabouts.
Rumors stated the male had been spending quality time in downtown Oklahoma City. Gossip meant to send Puck straight into an ambush? Possibly. Going to stop him? No.
He stole a cell phone and, just as Cameron and Winter had taught him, posted an ad on Immortal Wanted, a site on the dark dark web.
Needed: one flash from Budapest to Oklahoma City.
Payment: Amaranthian gold.
He added his exact coordinates and waited.
Posting the ad cost just as much as the ride itself, but the benefits far outweighed the expense. If someone accepted a job and harmed the person who'd hired him, that someone would be hunted down and executed by the site's owner--Rathbone the Only, one of nine kings of the underworld.
Puck had never met Rathbone, but had only ever heard others speak of him in hushed tones.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, if someone posted a job and harmed the person he'd hired, or even failed to pay, that someone would be hunted down and executed.
Only minutes later, his ride appeared. A tall, muscular male with long black hair, eyes like diamonds and skin as dark and red as blood. Power radiated from him. He was shirtless, his bottom half covered by black leather pants. From the neck down, he had hundreds of tattoos, every image the same. A closed eye.
"You the one looking for a ride?" the newcomer asked. He had a deep, raspy voice.
"I am."
Those diamond eyes glittered with wicked amusement as he held out a hand. "I'm nothing if not cooperative...when I'm not killing in cold blood."
A threat? Good luck with that.
Puck placed a gold coin in the center of the male's palm, expecting the male to wrap an arm around him; most immortals needed to touch the one they transported. Not this one. Budapest vanished, an abandoned alleyway, with multiple Dumpsters, taking its place.
The other man was gone.
A small cat with matted fur and scars approached Puck and twined between his feet, rubbing against his legs.
"Nice doing business with you," he muttered.
Intense heat enveloped him, the air humid, oppressive. Sweat beaded on his skin as he checked his weapons, just in case his escort had decided to disappear with them. Two daggers, two semiautomatics. Excellent.
Remaining in the shadows, Puck studied the milieu. Old buildings with red brick interspersed with the occasional brownstone. Multiple alleyways branching off the one he'd been transported to. A few pedestrians meandering along the sidewalks.
Left with no other recourse, Puck stalked forward, revealing his presence to the humans. Something he'd never done in the past--without killing everyone who'd spotted him. Today, there was no reason to hide his identity and every reason to reveal it.
People stared. Some even whipped out their phones to take his picture. No one screamed, or ran away. Interesting. Perhaps they assumed he played dress up?
Let word of his presence spread. Let William come to him.
A sudden crackle of energy charged the air, stopping him. A split second later, the entire sky blackened, as if the sun had flashed to another realm. Humans gasped and shouted for help, only to be drowned out as anguished cries spilled from the sky: wails of pain and grief.
What the hell?
Before he had a chance to reason out what had happened, the sun shone from a baby blue sky once again. The chorus quieted, even as fearful humans hurried from the area.
The answer came to Puck in an instant, as he'd witnessed this type of event before. Sent Ones--winged demon assassins--lived in the third level of the heavens, the level closest to the human realm. One of their leaders had died.
Not my problem.
Focus. Puck entered the first hotel he encountered, leaving his cat-shadow outside. He would hole up in a room, and wait for William's arrival.
Would the male show up?
The employees gave Puck twice-overs, and guests gave him the side-eye, but no one asked any questions. After acquiring a key, he dismissed the bellhop and took the stairs, stopping on every floor to ensure no exits were blocked.
In his room, he found a king-size bed with a white comforter, a desk, dresser, television and coffee table. He moved everything to a single corner and--
Boom!
Hinges on the front door shattered. Wood split. In the center of the chaos stood William of the Dark. At his feet, the cat--the smiling cat. Had the feline led William to Puck? Possibly. Even probably. How else would William have arrived so quickly?
Puck did a quick visual survey. William held a small gold torc but had no discernible weapons. Of course, if he was anything like Puck, his body was weapon enough.
Silence stretched between them as they took each other's measure. During their last meeting, William had sported red eyes. Not so today. The blue had returned.
Did eye color matter to Gillian? Did she prefer--
Fool! Her preferences had no bearing on the situation.
"You m
ay go," William said.
"Go?" Puck popped his knuckles. "Why would I--"
"Not you."
The cat began to grow, and grow. Shapeshifter, Puck realized. Fur disappeared, replaced by red skin, revealing the immortal who'd flashed him to Oklahoma.
Red took a bow. "My pleasure doing business with you, Puck. And you as well, William. Though I'd love to stay and witness the carnage that comes next, I'm needed in the heavens. Where there's turmoil, there's me." He tipped an invisible hat before flashing away.
Turmoil in the heavens. Knew it. "The Sent Ones," Puck said. "Something happened."
"You shouldn't concern yourself with them. Only yourself." William spoke at a normal volume, but menace laced every word. "Tell me where Gillian is, or I'll turn your testicles into tiny disco balls."
Resentment flared, spurring Indifference into a frenzied pace across his mind. Back and forth, back and forth. "She is safe. Right now, that's all you need to know."
Ding, ding, ding. With a maddened war cry, William launched at Puck.
As they plummeted to the floor, the other male grabbed hold of his wrist and anchored the gold band around it. An unexpected action, and odd development. The metal pulsed with magic.
Impact. Air gusted from his lungs, the floor underneath him, his opponent on top of him. William rose to his knees and whaled, his fists raining down furious blows. Puck's brain rattled against skull. Pain. Dizziness.
The rage sharpened, Indifference clawing at his mind harder, faster. Steady. Do not give in. Though the demon no longer had the power to weaken him, emotion would drive him to kill the male he needed.
Puck blocked the next crushing blow. Of course, unwilling to give up, William threw a punch with his free hand.
Blocking it, too, Puck said, "Think. You can't hurt me without hurting Gillian."
"Wrong." The male smiled a cold, calculating smile, all pearly whites and malice. "Did you think I'd twiddle my thumbs after you bonded to my woman? I learned everything I could about you, as well as marriage bonds. You were betrayed by your brother, your kingdom stolen. Ring any bells? Oh, and I made you a gift." He motioned to the gold wrist cuff with a tilt of his chin.
Symbols had been carved into the metal. "What kind of magic is it?" Puck asked.
"What you call magic, I call power. As the son of Hades, I have power--in spades. Now, your pain will remain your own. And I know what you're thinking. Wow, that Willy sure is the total package. Beauty, brawn and brains. You are right, but you are also a dead man walking." Punch, punch. "I cannot be beaten."
Puck caught his fists once again and offered a cold smile of his own. "Despite your power, you cannot sever my bond to Gillian. It's alive and well, tying my life to hers, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Fury glittered in those ocean-water blues. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you, Pucker. Oh, no. You're going to suffer for centuries." He punctuated every word with a new punch.
Puck endured the newest round of hammering fists without fighting back, all the while working his legs between their bodies. Success. He grabbed the male by the arms and yanked, at the same time kicking him overhead. William soared across the room and slammed into the wall, cracking the plaster from ceiling to floor.
Dust plumed the air. Muscles rippled with raw power as Puck stood, and warm blood dripped from his mouth. He would unsheathe a dagger and hack through William's--
No! Must not kill.
"Here's what is going to happen," he said, his harsh voice barely recognizable. "You're going to raise an army to help me dethrone my brother and reclaim my kingdom. Afterward, I will use the shears of Ananke to sever my bond to Gillian. She will be free of me, once and for all."
And I will not miss her, even for a second.
"I don't need an army. I am an army." Teeth bared, William straightened and rotated the bones in his neck. "Where is she? Did you bed her?"
"I have not." He told himself to shut up. But his lips parted, allowing a single word to escape. "Yet."
Growling, William took a step forward.
"Only after we've dethroned my brother," Puck continued, "will I use the shears." The promise tasted foul, but he refused to negate it. "Agree to my terms. Now."
"Instead, I think I'll steal the shears and sever the bond myself. Then I'll sever your twig and berries, and stuff the little trio down your throat. As an appetizer. After all those centuries of suffering I mentioned, I might grow sick and tired of hearing you beg for mercy, so finally I'll consider killing you. Then I'll conquer your kingdom, just for grins and giggles."
Yawn. "Trust me when I say you won't find the shears without me." He'd taken extreme precautions to hide them. "So. Either you agree to help me within the next five seconds, or I return to Gillian and bed her for the first time. And second...third." Anticipation consumed him, setting him on edge. "Do you like the idea of her splayed across my bed, naked, her dark hair spilling over my pillow, her legs spread wide for me, and me alone?" Because I do.
He expected another explosion from William.
Instead, the male arched a dark brow and raked his gaze over Puck. "Are you sure she'll welcome you? Nice legs. Shave much?"
"Why would I shave, when my wife loves to rub against me and use me for warmth? Four seconds."
Nostrils flared, William circled him. "Do you have a pedigree? Nah. You're a mutt, guaranteed. Do you keep your hooves off the bed or do you not care about dirtying the sheets?"
Head high. Shoulders back. "Sheets can be cleaned. My mind cannot. Oh, the things I long to do to my wife... Three."
Rigid, William said, "Shall I turn around and let you sniff my ass?" He tsked-tsked. "If the bed is a rockin', don't come a-knockin'--because you're probably under it, chewing on a shoe, amirite."
"Or giving my wife her next dozen orgasms. Two."
Nostrils flared. "Be honest. Is that a furbaby in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"
"That is all me, and I can hardly wait to gift every throbbing inch to my wife. One."
William huffed and puffed, but offered no agreement.
"Very well. I'll mark plan A as unsuccessful." He would return to Amaranthia and proceed without his other key. What else could he do?
Cameron and Winter would aid him. They'd killed some of the biggest baddies in "mythology."
First problem: Cameron was too easily distracted by trivial obsessions.
Second: Winter would betray anyone to appease her selfish nature.
Outcome: the siblings might cause more harm than good.
And these are the ones you left in charge of Gillian's care?
Pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth, Puck ignored the demon's newest round of roars and stalked toward the door.
"What? No goodbye?" William stepped in his path. "Perhaps I'll help your brother defeat you."
One second Puck intended to leave, the next he had the other male pressed against the wall, his fingers wrapped around his neck. The remaining plaster crumbled.
"Perhaps I'll kill you," he stated. Gillian would cry, but tears could be dried. Broken hearts could be mended.
William kicked his outside leg up, up and hooked his ankle over Puck's wrist. Then he brought his leg down, hard. It happened in less than a blink, but Puck's thoughts were faster. He knew he had a choice. Release his opponent and emerge unscathed, or hold on and deal with a broken arm.
Finally, an easy decision to make. I'll take option B.
The bone in his forearm snapped, pain searing him. He welcomed it, and maintained his iron grip. At the same time, he dropped into a crouch, forcing William to do the same, and used his free hand to press multiple razors against the immortal's throat.
William laughed, the sound half wild, half insane. "You want her for your own, don't you, and think she wants you back? Well, too bad. You'll never have her. Bonds make couples think they desire each other, meaning any desire she has for you is false. After all, what woman in her right mind would ever willingly
choose someone like you? Those horns..." He shuddered.
"Your mother loved my horns last night. Polished them up real nice."
Another wild, insane laugh from William before he sobered. "During my search for information, I learned I am somehow the key to your success. You can't dethrone Sin without me. So, if you want your brother out of the way, you will swear an unbreakable blood oath to cut your tie to Gillian the moment I present you with the Connacht crown."
He'd...won? This was it. The moment Puck had schemed and fought for. He opened his mouth to agree but, with a surprising amount of bite, said, "I'll accept your terms if you'll accept mine. While we're in my home-realm, you will not touch Gillian."
The statement registered in his mind, and he jolted. What he didn't do? Negate it.
"I'll touch her when and where I please," William snapped.
Puck unveiled another cold smile--a promise of pain. "Then we do not have a deal."
"You won't walk away from vengeance against Sin. You won't abandon your people to a life of fear and torment."
"I can. I will. You forget who I am." He turned on his heel with every intention of jumping out the window. Sometimes he despised Indifference for shaping him this way; other times, he reveled in his ability to compartmentalize.
Today, he reveled. Ice, baby, ice.
"Fine," William snarled. "I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer. I won't attempt to seduce her. If she attempts to seduce me, however..."
Teeth, grinding. Hands, fisting. Puck turned and faced his second key.
Feel nothing, want nothing.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Someone had heard the commotion and called the cops.
If he stuck around much longer, he would face arrest.
He raised his chin. "I accept your terms."
"I'll have your blood oath about the shears." William reached out, yanked a razor from Puck's hair and made an incision in his own wrist.
As soon their blood mixed, as soon as the oath left his mouth, Puck would be forever bound, physically unable to renege.
No other way.
Using the same razor, Puck mimicked the warrior. Blood welled inside the wound as he clasped the other male's hand. "The day we defeat Sin...the day you give the Connacht crown to me and leave my home, never to return, never to strike out at me or my realm or my people in retaliation for deeds I committed...that is the day I will use the shears of Ananke to sever my bond with Gillian Connacht. This I vow."