The Darkest Secret Read Free Page A

hands anchored behind their backs. Not a sound did they make. Not even the rasp of breath.
    Physically, they…entranced him. And yeah, it wasembarrassing as hell to admit that, even to himself. But the sheer magnetism of them was stunning. Hypnotic. A drug for his eyes.
    They possessed all different shades of hair. From the darkest of midnight to the palest of snow, but his favorite was the gold. So pure, so fluid, a king’s ransom that had been melted and mixed with the dazzle of summer sun. Rich, vibrant. Almost…alive. No way he’d be teasing any of them about such prissy locks, though.
    They might not be attacking him, might not even be looking at him, but death radiated from them.
    Someone cleared his throat.
    Strider blinked, Torin coming back into focus. His friend occupied the center of the hallway. Probably had the entire time, only Strider had lost sight of anything but the angels the moment he’d spied them. Yep. Em-bar-rass-ing.
    â€œWhy?” was all he asked.
    Torin understood. “Aeron and William took Amun into hell on a rescue mission. And yeah, they got Legion out of there. She’s alive, healing, but Amun…”
    Strider filled in the rest and wanted to punch a hole in the wall. The keeper of Secrets had new voices in his head.
    He’d been with Amun for thousands upon thousands of years. Eons, what seemed countless millennia. He knew the warrior’s demon absorbed the darkest thoughts and deepest mysteries of anyone nearby. Things long buried, horrific, gruesome. Unwanted, humiliating. Soul-changing. And if Amun had been in hell, where demons roamed in their purest form, his head was now churning with all kinds of evil. Malevolent whispers, wicked images, both drowning the essence of who he was.
    Or rather, who he’d been .
    â€œThe angels?” Strider gritted out. Yeah, he knew it was rude to discuss the beings as if they weren’t there, buthe simply didn’t give a shit. He didn’t love many people, but he loved the other demon-possessed residents of this fortress. Even more than he loved himself, and that was a whole hell of a lot.
    â€œThey wanted to kill him, but—”
    â€œFuck no!” he roared. Anyone touched his friend, and they’d lose their hands—followed by their limbs, their organs and, when he tired of torturing them, their lives.
    He hefted Ex off his shoulder and into his arms before easing her to the floor and stalking forward, already reaching for a blade.
    Defeat sensed his need to destroy and laughed. Win!
    â€œStop.” Torin raised his arm to ward him off, even as he backtracked to maintain distance. “Let me finish, damn it! They wanted to kill him, were supposed to kill him, but they haven’t. Won’t.”
    Yet hung in the air like a noose around his neck. Strider chose to ignore that noose—for the moment—and stopped, already panting and sweating with the force of his instant and white-hot rage.
    Win? his demon whined.
    No challenge has been issued. Therefore, he could back off without consequences.
    Oh, he thought he heard, a whole lot of disappointment in the undertone.
    â€œWhy are they here, then?” he snapped, demanding an answer now. Or else.
    Green eyes grew shadowed as Torin shifted from one foot to the other. His mouth opened and closed, the right explanation eluding him perhaps. “Amun didn’t just absorb new memories. He absorbed demon minions. Hundreds of them.”
    â€œHow? How the fuck is that possible? I’ve lived with him for centuries, and he’s never absorbed my demon.”
    â€œNor mine. But ours are High Lords who can bindthemselves to humans. Those were mere underlings, and as you know, they can only bind themselves to, what? High Lords. Which they did, to his. He’s…tainted now, a danger far worse than the brush of my skin. The angels are guarding him. Limiting the contact he has with others, ensuring he doesn’t