Gena Showalter - The Darkest Secret

S TRIDER, KEEPER OF THE DEMON of Defeat, burst through the towering front doors of the Budapest fortress he shared with a growing cast of friendsbrothers and sisters by circumstance rather than blood, but all the closer for itfighting a rush of undeniable pleasure.

Hed freaking done it, man. Done. It. After chasing his enemy cross-continent, bargaining away one of the four godly relics needed to find and destroy Pandoras boxand yeah, he was gonna get spanked hard for thatthen, after being eaten alive by insects and at one point (cough) walking into a chicks knife (cough), hed finally won. And damn if he wasnt ready to celebrate.

Im king of the world, bitches. Come in here and bask in my glory. His voice echoed through the foyer, expectant, eager.

No one returned the greeting.

Still. Grinning, he shifted the unconscious female draped over his shoulder into a more comfortable position. More comfortable for him. She was the enemy hed been chasing, as well as the chick whod oh, so impolitely introduced his pancreas to the freaking hilt of her blade. He could hardly wait to tell everyone that hed done what they hadnt. Hed bagged and tagged her, baby.

He called, Daddys home. Somebody? Anybody?

Again, there was no response. His grin dulled a bit.

Damn it. When he lost a single challenge, he battled crippling pain for days. When he won, thoughgods, it was almost a sexual high, energy buzzing in his veins, heating him, priming him. That kind of enthusiasm called for a playmate. And, hell, twelve warriors and their menagerie of female companions lived here, yet no one had waited around to welcome him home? Even though the grounds were now gated, monitored and someone had had to punch him in, like, five minutes ago?

Didnt that just figure.

But he deserved it, he supposed. Seven days had passed since hed last texted or phoned. Technically, though, that wasnt his fault. Hed been a wee bit preoccupied, what with subduing his bundle of anything but joy. And on his last update, hed been told the danger here had passed and everyone could return, so hed stopped the I-have-to-know-how-everyones-doing flurry of calls.

So, fine. No biggie. The fact that no one wanted to play actually did him a solid. Now he could take care of a little business. Thanks, guys. Youre the best. Really. And you can all suck it!

Strider surged forward. To console himself, he imagined his prisoners expression when she woke up and found herself trapped in a four-by-four cage. Now thats the good stuff. Then his gaze snagged on his unfamiliar surroundings, and the last vestiges of his grin fell away. He stopped abruptly.

Hed been gone only a few weeks, and hed thought most of the others had been, too, but in that time someone had managed to turn the run-down monstrosity they called home into a showpiece. Once comprised of crumbling stone and mortar, the floor was now brilliant white marble veined with amber. Equally deteriorated walls were now vividly polished rosewood.

Before, the winding staircase had been cracked; now it gleamed, not a flaw in sight, an unblemished gold railing climbing to the top. In the corner, a white velvet-lined chair was pushed against reflective paneling, and beyond that, priceless artifactscolorful vases, bejeweled trinket boxes and aged spearheadswere perched behind glass cases.

None of which had been there before.

All these changes, in less than a month? Seemed impossible, even with Titan gods popping in and out at will. Maybe because those gods were more concerned with murder and mayhem than interior decorating. But maybemaybe while Strider had been congratulating himself on a job well done, hed entered the wrong house? It had happened before.