Free Giving It Up for the Gods by Kryssie Fortune Page A

“For a Siren, she’s got a good grasp of human history, not to mention a good dose of common sense.”
    Lindy blushed. “So, do we go now? Does anyone have things to pack?”
    Jase turned all bossy and protective. “We travel light and buy what we need as we go. Hey, Merc, you’re smaller than me. As edible as Lindy looks in my shirt, can you lend her some sweats and a pullover? A jacket would be good too.”
    Edible? Really? Only, how had he put it earlier—whether he wanted to or not? That definitely rankled . Suddenly conscious of her aching nipples and damp pussy, Lindy added, “Yeah, please. Anything’s better than his cast-off shirt.”
    A quarter of an hour later, Jase squeezed through the narrow gap.
    “Suck it in, buster. Good thing you’re a demon, not a priest. For a moment there, I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Lindy taunted. When she stared past him, she saw nothing but darkness. Her throat dried, and her gut felt like someone had coiled thick chains around it and yanked them tight. Steps down into a dark hole? So not part of the aspirational Siren lifestyle.
    The dark interior muffled his response, but she’d lay odds it was rude. Definitely insulting. Distraction was necessary if she wanted to move forward, and it felt good to abuse him. Score one for the Siren side.
    They gathered in the long, narrow room concealed within the walls. Lindy started when, as if of its own accord, the pillar swung shut behind them. She could barely see in the darkened room, but why hadn’t anyone brought a torch? She bit back a whimper, almost. Jase must have heard, because he gave her hand a squeeze. She didn’t see what he did, but she heard a soft rasping noise—stone sliding over stone—a hiss through the night. A tunnel opened like a black gullet, and a narrow stair led them down into utter darkness. Lindy had never wanted her cell phone more. Any light at all, really. Jase turned sideways, took her hand, and led her down an unlit stair.
    Again Jase squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, princess.”
    That tunnel? All right? Pitch-black and oppressive more like. Shaken to the core, she couldn’t muster a snarky response. She followed reluctantly, her free hand flat against the wall, her breathing jagged. The primordial fears every Siren hid from the world set her shaking. Even when she inhaled, slow and deliberate, panic kicked at her gut like a mule. Jase’s thumb traced small circles over the back of her hand, and that slight considerate touch calmed her soul.
    She tried to think happy thoughts as she stumbled forward. So not working . They waded through darkness so thick she thought blankets swaddled her head. Neptune’s balls, I’m suffocating down here. Can’t see. Can’t breathe. Can’t stop. Got to keep moving . She curled her free hand around Jase’s forearm and kept the other intertwined with his. Her grip would have crushed a lesser man. He was safety and protection, an anchor in the sea of blackness that engulfed her. She longed to wrap her arms around his waist, cuddle up close, and rest her head on his broad chest. Maybe that way she could pretend this wasn’t happening. Her claustrophobia was rising right along with a Siren shriek she feared would bring the roof down. She bit her lip rather than let it out. She’d done nothing to deserve this. As a distraction, she counted her steps.
    One hundred… Three hundred… Six hundred… One thousand… Would this tunnel never end? All the while, Jase stroked his thumb over the back of her hand and spoke soft, encouraging words.
    Finally the passage hit a dead end, and Jase stopped. Maybe there was another door or something. Whatever, Jase. Hurry up and open it. Please.
    He let go of her hand. “Stay here.”
    There he went with the order thing again. And where the hell did he expect her to go? Overhead, a chink of light showed—more the darkness of night than the stygian darkness of the passage she hated. It was the most beautiful