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Unhampered by a need to fight fair, he slammed his knee between Hades's legs. Testicles, enjoy your meet and greet with your master's throat. As the king hunched over, gasping for breath he couldn't catch, Puck coldcocked him in the jaw.
Hades stumbled back, his infuriated bellow echoing through the realm. When he straightened, his gaze landed on Puck and narrowed.
As Puck's stab wounds healed, he checked his cuticles. Huh. They could use a trim.
Now Hades laughed a sound of genuine amusement. "You think you've got me beat, do you? Hate to break it to you--who am I kidding? I love to break it to you, just as I'll love breaking you. I was winning battles when you were soiling your diapers. You cannot defeat me. Especially when I know Indifference better than you ever will."
A taunt meant to elicit fear, and knock Puck off his game? Too bad.
Utilizing the preternatural speed he'd been born with, he closed the distance and punted Hades in the stomach. The king stumbled, and Puck dived at him, knocking him down.
They toppled. Midair, Hades attempted to claim the superior position--and failed. Boom! Impact. Air gushed from the other man's lungs, momentarily rendering him immobile.
Puck suffered no such impairment and took full advantage, yanking a razor from his hair and slicing through his opponent's eyes, temporarily blinding him.
With a roar, Hades whaled on Puck, shattering his cheekbone, jaw and trachea. He'd experienced worse a thousand times over and fought through fresh waves of searing pain, repeatedly swiping at the king's face. Blood poured from multiple lacerations.
At the same time, Puck used his free hand to steal back the dagger Hades had stolen. But the king expected that action, too, and angled the blade to slash through Puck's palm. Flesh and muscle tore. Bone cracked.
Hades power-drilled a fist into his jaw. Newly healed joints dislocated. Stars winked through his vision and more waves of searing pain joined the party. But not by word or deed did Puck reveal it. He simply maneuvered to his feet and slammed a boot into Hades's nose, shattering cartilage. A reprieve. He forced his jaw into place. Better.
When he raised his foot to deliver a second stomp, Hades caught his ankle and flipped him over. Upon landing, Puck flipped backward and glided to his feet a good distance away.
"I can do this all day," he said. "Come. Give me your worst." He gave an exaggerated wince, a taunt. "Or did you give me your worst already?"
Standing with far more grace than anyone should exhibit after taking a foot to the face, Hades offered him another amused laugh. "You want the girl, fine, she's yours. Because, no matter what my son thinks, she isn't the one for him. According to Keeleycael, he'll die if he weds Gillian. So. Tomorrow, I'll keep him busy, allowing you to do a little romancing. Or a lot of romancing. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You're going to have to work a lot for a little tail. Bond to her--it's the only way to save her--and take her far away from here."
Marriage to Gillian would cause William's death? Interesting. Maybe that was why Puck had to wed the one the underworld prince would live or die for, so that William survived long enough to dethrone Sin.
Maybe Gillian would cause William's death after Puck returned her.
Not my problem. Once William fulfilled the prophecy, Puck didn't care what happened to him. But he kept his lips zipped. No way would he admit he planned to take Gillian away from William only temporarily.
Let Hades think what he wanted to think. He--
Bond to her, he'd said. Not marry. The only way to save her.
Realization and shock hit Puck with enough force to topple an elephant. Bonding would unite their souls, allowing Gillian to draw on his strength and finish her transition into immortality. She would be more than his wife. She would become his other half.
Mine!
Slight problem. As weak as she was, she might act as a siphon and drain him completely, killing them both. An outcome William must fear. Otherwise he would have bonded to his ladylove already, aye?
Worth the risk.
He would propose, and she would agree, if only to save William heartbreak and guilt--or stop him from taking the same risk. She wouldn't want to jeopardize the life of her precious.
Advantage Puck.
Her unrelenting loyalty to the male should have pleased Puck--it would ensure his victory. So why was he grinding his teeth and squeezing his fists so tightly his knuckles attempted to tear through his skin?
Didn't matter. Potential dilemma: divorce would no longer be possible. Separation would mean death.
William would never agree to--
Puck sucked in a breath. The shears. Of course. He could use Ananke's shears to free Gillian from their bond, allowing her to return to William alive, free of her husband's claim.
Every action dictated by the Oracles had a reason, and finally those reasons made sense.
Puck readjusted his tasks. Bond to Gillian. Escort her to Amaranthia. Return for William.
Bond. Escort. Return.
Cold grin back in place, Hades saluted him. "Excellent. I see the wheels turning in your head. I'll leave you to your schemes. Good luck, Pucker. You're going to need it." After blowing him a kiss, the underworld king vanished.
Alone, Puck stared up at Gillian's balcony, waves of determination spilling over him, antagonizing Indifference all over again.
Inhale, exhale. Hades had promised to distract William tomorrow. Puck didn't trust him. Or anyone. Sin had taught him better. But doubt and worry were currently beyond him. He would continue on, as planned, and whatever happened, happened. He would deal.
What he wouldn't do? Give up.
Lass, you're as good as mine.
7
Puck spent the night appeasing Indifference by refortifying every layer of ice around his heart and mind. Feel nothing, want nothing. War before women, always.
When next he faced Gillian, he would be ready. Her beauty would not affect him, nor would possessive instincts lead him.
So it was decided, so it would be.
As the sun rose, Puck positioned himself in a bank of shadows, watching as Hades tried--and failed--to convince William to leave the realm. Hours passed, the sense of impatience returning.
Time wasn't his friend. Time was not Gillian's friend.
Finally, Hades told William he had a lead on a cure for Gillian, and William happily abandoned ship, granting Puck an opportunity to meet with Gillian unencumbered. Unless the king of the underworld intended to ambush him?
No matter. I'll be ready.
Puck prowled through an oasis of palm trees, his gaze locked on his target. She lounged on the beach in a cushioned chair, a wispy white canopy providing shade. Already she'd lost weight she couldn't afford to lose. The shine in her hair had dulled, and the lovely tint of rose in her cheeks had abated.
How much time did she have left?
Protective instincts surged. Ice cracked as his butterfly tat traveled from his shoulder to his thigh.
Breathing deeply, searching for calm, he closed in on Gillian. A golden sun set in the horizon, painting the sky with a rainbow of different colors and reflecting off the water--and her eyes. Such a beautiful, tranquil setting, perfect for seduction. He almost smiled. William had set the stage for his own downfall.
Around her, eight armed guards.
Only eight?
My future wife--rephrase. The girl deserves better. Must teach William the error of his ways.
"Do you need anything, Miss Bradshaw?" one of the guards called.
Bradshaw--one of her aliases. Did William not want anyone to know her true identity?
"No, thank you," Gillian rasped, her voice little more than a whisper.
So weak. So close to the end. Crack, crack. If the demon were to take out Puck before he'd secured a bond with her... Must act faster.
Moving at a speed neither mortal nor immortal could track, he felled the first four guards. As the others realized an enemy lurked nearby, weapons were cocked. Too late. Puck de
feated them just as easily and swiftly.
Brushing his hands together in a job well done, he stalked to Gillian's side. The scent of poppiberries filled his nose, deliciously intoxicating and as magical as home, urging him closer, closer still, and--
Snarl.
Puck nearly lost his footing. And I considered myself prepared? The girl wielded some sort of strange enchantment over him, able to do in seconds what most people couldn't do in months: affect him.
Spotting him, she gasped. Then she looked down, as if she couldn't bear the sight of him. Panic radiated from her, the very emotion he hadn't wanted her to feel--and he hadn't yet spoken a word!
Why would she fear his presence when he hadn't hurt her last time? Why would--
Her gaze darted to him, lingering on his loincloth, before she once again looked away.
The material was damaged, frayed, and revealed more than it concealed. Easily remedied.
Should he remedy the situation, though? Perhaps she feared her reaction to his body. Perhaps she liked the sight of him too much.
A man could dream.
In a blink, Puck returned to a fallen soldier, stole a shirt and fit his arms through the holes. The man's pants were too small. Every pair of pants proved too small. Very well. At least the shirt was long enough to cover his shaft as it grew...and grew.
As he returned to Gillian, he buttoned the lapels, not realizing until too late that he'd aligned the two sides incorrectly.
