fear of spiders, she thought, smiling again. He was a big, bad warrior who had killed thousands of people without a jump in his heart rate. But he almost peed his pants when an insect scampered toward him.
She supposed she couldn't blame him. She hated the creepy little bugs. They'd constantly invaded her cell in Tartarus, crawling from every shadow and wall crack. And every time she'd awoken from her impenetrable sleep, she would find herself covered with bite marks.
Not to mention the bruises her cellmates had left behind. Until she'd started invading their dreams.
Whatever she'd done to them in this dark realm, real life had parroted, and they'd awoken in puddles of their own blood, often missing limbs. Some had never awakened at all.
Who do we want? the demon asked her. The most frequently asked question between them.
Over the years, they'd learned to work together. They even liked each other, relied on each other. At times, the demon had been her only friend.
"A Hunter would be nice," she replied. Maybe they could scare the guy to death. That always put Nightmares in a stellar mood. Besides, she owed the Hunters. Not because she cared that they wanted to hurt Gideon, but because they'd ruined a perfectly good meal for her.
This will be fun. More gleeful laughter as the demon whisked them forward, the doorways blurring at her side.
When they stopped, they stood in front of an open doorway that was far larger than any she'd seen before. Moans of pleasure echoed from inside, a decadent mix of male and female. There was a slap of flesh against flesh. Murmurs of "more" and "please."
An erotic dream, then.
"Who is this?"
Galen. Leader of Hunters. Keeper of Hope.
Galen. She scowled. The warrior had led his army against the Lords because they were demon-possessed, and yet Galen himself carried a demon. The contradiction was baffling, but it didn't surprise her.
Galen had always struck her as more snake than man. A few times, he'd helped Gideon bring a prisoner into Tartarus, and he'd been all smiles while Gideon faced him, but the moment Gideon had turned away, Galen's glower had bored into his back.
When Gideon had told her that he'd found a way to curry the gods' favor thanks to his pal Galen, and that for his reward, he would request her freedom, she had begged him not to do it, whatever he planned. Of course, he hadn't listened. He'd been too assured, too hopeful, of his success.
She'd wanted to "thank" Galen for his part in Gideon's failure for a long, long time, but hadn't allowed herself to do so. That would have helped Gideon, and she hadn't wanted to do that, either.
Now, however, with that necklace burning against her chest, she no longer minded the prospect quite so much.
Ready?
Slowly she grinned. "Let's do this."
They stepped through the entrance, a phantom unseen by the dreamer, and suddenly Scarlet was viewing the evidence of what she'd heard. Galen was tall and muscled, with blond hair and blue eyes. Eyes that were peering down at a beautiful, pale-haired female. A female he had anchored against a bathroom sink, his majestic white wings outstretched, enclosing her in a feathered haven.
The woman's shirt was pushed to her chin, bearing her large--really large--breasts. He feasted on them eagerly. Her pants were around her ankles as Galen pounded inside her, hips shifting to produce maximum pleasure.
His pants were merely opened at the waist, so Scarlet saw very little of him. Too bad. She could have taunted Gideon with the size of his enemy's cock and the hardness of his ass.
So many
She supposed she couldn't blame him. She hated the creepy little bugs. They'd constantly invaded her cell in Tartarus, crawling from every shadow and wall crack. And every time she'd awoken from her impenetrable sleep, she would find herself covered with bite marks.
Not to mention the bruises her cellmates had left behind. Until she'd started invading their dreams.
Whatever she'd done to them in this dark realm, real life had parroted, and they'd awoken in puddles of their own blood, often missing limbs. Some had never awakened at all.
Who do we want? the demon asked her. The most frequently asked question between them.
Over the years, they'd learned to work together. They even liked each other, relied on each other. At times, the demon had been her only friend.
"A Hunter would be nice," she replied. Maybe they could scare the guy to death. That always put Nightmares in a stellar mood. Besides, she owed the Hunters. Not because she cared that they wanted to hurt Gideon, but because they'd ruined a perfectly good meal for her.
This will be fun. More gleeful laughter as the demon whisked them forward, the doorways blurring at her side.
When they stopped, they stood in front of an open doorway that was far larger than any she'd seen before. Moans of pleasure echoed from inside, a decadent mix of male and female. There was a slap of flesh against flesh. Murmurs of "more" and "please."
An erotic dream, then.
"Who is this?"
Galen. Leader of Hunters. Keeper of Hope.
Galen. She scowled. The warrior had led his army against the Lords because they were demon-possessed, and yet Galen himself carried a demon. The contradiction was baffling, but it didn't surprise her.
Galen had always struck her as more snake than man. A few times, he'd helped Gideon bring a prisoner into Tartarus, and he'd been all smiles while Gideon faced him, but the moment Gideon had turned away, Galen's glower had bored into his back.
When Gideon had told her that he'd found a way to curry the gods' favor thanks to his pal Galen, and that for his reward, he would request her freedom, she had begged him not to do it, whatever he planned. Of course, he hadn't listened. He'd been too assured, too hopeful, of his success.
She'd wanted to "thank" Galen for his part in Gideon's failure for a long, long time, but hadn't allowed herself to do so. That would have helped Gideon, and she hadn't wanted to do that, either.
Now, however, with that necklace burning against her chest, she no longer minded the prospect quite so much.
Ready?
Slowly she grinned. "Let's do this."
They stepped through the entrance, a phantom unseen by the dreamer, and suddenly Scarlet was viewing the evidence of what she'd heard. Galen was tall and muscled, with blond hair and blue eyes. Eyes that were peering down at a beautiful, pale-haired female. A female he had anchored against a bathroom sink, his majestic white wings outstretched, enclosing her in a feathered haven.
The woman's shirt was pushed to her chin, bearing her large--really large--breasts. He feasted on them eagerly. Her pants were around her ankles as Galen pounded inside her, hips shifting to produce maximum pleasure.
His pants were merely opened at the waist, so Scarlet saw very little of him. Too bad. She could have taunted Gideon with the size of his enemy's cock and the hardness of his ass.
So many
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