The Darkest Craving. Gena Showalter

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now,” William said sternly, and Kane had no idea who the command was for.

      Didn’t matter, really. Everyone quieted.

      Ashlyn glanced over at Kane, her amber eyes welcoming. She looked nothing like Kane’s woman—no, not his, he quickly amended—and yet she reminded him of the girl. The delicacy of her bone structure, perhaps. Or the depth of her concern for those around her, maybe. “Do you want to hold Urban?”

      “No, thank you,” he replied at the same time Maddox said, “No, he doesn’t.”

      A stilted moment of silence elapsed.

      Kane ignored the hurt the words caused. The refusal was justified. He was a danger to everyone he encountered. Had his mind not been such a mess, constantly feeding the demon the tastiest of meals, light bulbs would have been shorting out and the walls and floors would have been cracking.

      “I just wanted to get a look at them before … Well, I’ll be leaving a little later today. I’ve got a female to help.” He cleared the clog of emotion from his throat.

      “Well, come on, then,” Ashlyn said. “Sabin and Strider mentioned the pointy-eared woman from New York. I like the sound of her.”

      “She’s …” Magnificent. Lovely. Witty. “Something.” His insides tightened as he approached the rockers.

      William stood to do the same, remaining by his side, stiff, his hand poised over the hilt of a dagger. To protect the babies from Kane’s affliction? Yeah. Probably.

      Can’t blame him.

      “You gettin’ so close to me ’cause you’re trying to taste my flavor, Willy boy?” he said to the warrior who had yet to back off. Teasing was better than raging. Or worse. Crying.

      “Maybe.” William allowed a few more inches of space. “But you just ruined it. Flavor? Seriously? I like my conquests with a little more maturity.”

      “I’m mature. I’m even old enough to plow your mom.”

      “Please. She would eat your liver for lunch and your kidneys for dinner.”

      “Could you guys be any more disgusting?” Ashlyn asked.

      “Yes,” they said in unison.

      Urban chortled, as if he understood. The kid had a full head of black hair, and his eyes were the same shade of violet as his father’s—though they were far more serious and too intelligent for a newborn. As Kane looked him over, two horns rose from the baby’s skull, and black scales appeared on his hands.

      “Defensive actions?” he asked.

      “We think so,” Ashlyn replied, sounding somewhat embarrassed. “He doesn’t mean any insult.”

      “I know.” He shifted his gaze to Maddox. The female child, Ever, had the honey-colored hair of her mother, the strands wound into tight little curls. Her eyes swam with orange and gold flames, and a mouthful of teeth peeked out from under her lips.

      The twins had been born a little over a month ago, and yet they appeared quite older.

      The boy stared at Kane as if plotting his murder.

      The girl looked him over and dismissed him, concentrating on William and holding out her arms. Grinning, William claimed her from her father. She nuzzled against the warrior’s neck, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing with contentment.

      “Isn’t she the best?” William said, his grin widening. “She used to have claws, but they shrank. Didn’t they, princess? Oh, yes, they did, but they’ll come out to play if some dumb loser ever tries to take what you don’t want to give, won’t they?”

      Another sharp pain tore through Kane’s chest. “The children are beautiful,” he told the beaming parents, and he meant it. He removed a bejeweled dagger from the sheath at his side, and handed it hilt first to Maddox. “This is for Ever, from her uncle Kane.”

      Maddox nodded his head in acceptance.

      He palmed the matching dagger, and placed it on the small table beside Ashlyn. “This is for Urban.”

      She offered a soft, sweet smile in thanks. “How wonderfully thoughtful. The children will love them, I know it.”

      “Well, I don’t. Put those dangerous things away,” William chided. “My darlings can’t play with knives for another couple of months. And why are you giving them presents now? Why can’t you wait until the appropriate time and—” His gaze zeroed in on Kane, and he pressed his lips together.

      Did he suspect the truth—that Kane was leaving for good?

      Whatever. Kane ignored him, slapping Maddox on the shoulder. “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Words cannot express what you mean to me.” He didn’t wait around for the warrior’s reply; he couldn’t. The backs of his eyes were burning. He must have gotten dust in them.

      He strode from the room, intending to hunt down the remaining warriors he loved more than life. Torin, Lucien, Reyes, Paris, Aeron, Gideon, Amun, Sabin, Strider and Cameo. Over the centuries, they’d fought together, avenged each other, saved each other. Yes, for many years they’d been split into two different groups, one determined to battle the Hunters, the other determined to exist in peace. But at heart, they’d always been together. And in the end, the war had boiled over, bringing them back to the same purpose. Survival.

      Each warrior would be devastated by his departure. He knew that for a fact—because they’d once lost another of their brethren. Baden, the keeper of Distrust. They had mourned for centuries, and still hadn’t truly recovered. But Kane didn’t have a chance to hunt down a single person. William swept up to his side, keeping pace.

      “You’re leaving,” the warrior said.

      “Yes.” He’d already admitted that much.

      “Forever.” A statement, not a question.

      He wanted to lie. William could try to stop him. William could tell the others, and they could try to stop him. Still he said, “Yes.” Demons loved lies, and while there wasn’t much Kane could do to deny Disaster pleasure, telling the truth was one of them.

      “Well, I’m going with you,” William announced.

      Kane stopped and faced the male, irritation hanging in the air as heavily as shackles.

      Shackles.

      Breathe. “Why?” His tone lashed with more force than he’d intended. “You don’t even know where I’m going or what I’m planning.”

      A shrug of those wide shoulders. “Maybe I could use a distraction. I’ve been hunting a Sent One, some punk kid named Axel, but he’s proven to be wily and it’s starting to annoy me.”

      Sent Ones policed the skies, killing demons. They were winged, like angels, but as vulnerable to their emotions as humans. Right now, the Lords and the Sent Ones were on the same team.

      Everyone knew that could change at

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