Текст книги "The darkest seduction"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

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“We’ll talk about the intervention later. Right now I need you to do something.”

He explained what he needed, and the warrior was Johnny-on-the-spot, disappearing and returning a few minutes later with a Hunter clutched in each hand. Humans were easier to transport than immortals.

The men, both in their late thirties by the looks of them, were grimy, weak and had no fight left. Paris claimed them, and Lucien went back for a third.

Maybe this should have settled heavily on his shoulders, but these men had been captured while trying to slaughter his friends and their lovers. They would have cut the throats of the females without a moment’s hesitation.

They deserved what they got.

When Lucien returned, they muscled their loads up the stairs and back into that small alcove. Sienna hadn’t moved an inch, and Paris cursed under his breath. But she didn’t say anything when she spotted his burdens, even though her mouth opened as if she had plenty to unleash. She just watched with wide eyes as he and Lucien stepped onto the roof.

“Stay,” he commanded, shutting the door in her face. He didn’t want her to see what happened next.

He and Lucien approached the edge and looked down. A whole lot of airtime before reaching the rocky, blood-soaked ground. Whatever. He still wasn’t gonna feel bad. But he did wonder, again, if Sienna knew these guys. If she’d understand why he’d picked them. If she’d understand that he would use the information she’d given him to find more Hunters, to bring them here and use them in the same way, for as long as necessary.

Drop them,a disembodied voice he now recognized said on a sudden wind.

Only then did the Hunters begin to struggle. Paris and Lucien shared a moment of oh, shit before shoving them over. Shadows immediately darted from the sky, surrounding the men, catching them, and then devouring them. Screams, more pain-filled than the ones he’d heard while inside Shadow Man, rent the night. Then, silence.

And so the deal is sealed,another wind proclaimed. You are safe. For now.

He wasn’t sure he could trust the Shadow Man, but Sienna would have caught a lie, so there you go. “Thanks,” he said to Lucien.

“Of course.” A pause, a sigh. “Listen. I amsorry about what happened, and I will talk to the others. I’ve never liked what we were doing to you, how we were pushing you, and I’ll make sure your woman is respected. She’s who you want, she’s who you’ll get.”

His throat tightened up. “Thanks,” he repeated.

Lucien drilled a hand on his shoulder, a love pat with more strength than he probably realized, before taking off. As he exited, Sienna entered.

“Hey,” she said, expression blank.

“Hey,” he replied. Trepidation, foreboding, yeah, he felt them.

“So the toll’s been paid?”

He nodded mutely.

“Good. I saw their sins. Those men were awful, had done terrible things. Wrath wanted a go at them.”

That was it? That was her response? She wasn’t going to question him, castigate him? Was just going to accept? “I love you,” he said. He couldn’t hold the words back. There was no hiding the truth any longer, not even from himself.

Her jaw dropped. Those beautiful hazels were once again all about the emerald, the chocolate completely overshadowed. He was more into this woman than he’d ever been into another. So into her that he would die for her. Willingly, happily.

She just fit him. Made him happy. Relaxed him, excited him, challenged him.

“I—I…” Twin pink circles appeared on her cheeks. Arousal, maybe. At least, he hoped.

“No, don’t say anything.” He motioned her over, said huskily, “Just come here.”

She stumbled over to him, and he drew her close for a hug. Breathing deeply, he drank in her tropical scent, letting it brand him, remake him. There wasn’t anyone or anything that could keep him from this woman. She was his. Now and always.

He placed the sweetest of kisses against the wildly hammering pulse at the base of her neck. “Let’s practice your flying, okay?”

“O-okay.”

She loved him back; she had to love him back. If she didn’t, he would seduce her, romance her and woo her until she did. Most important battle of my life.

He set her away from him, and they spent the next few hours working on extending her wings properly and quickly enough, as well as getting her feet off the ground. Having never flown himself, he repeated the things Aeron had told him, the things he’d learned simply from watching the warrior, and he was happy to note Sienna made progress. But shit, he knew there was a lot he didn’t know.

Eventually Sex came out of hiding, enjoying the contact, pushing Paris to take things to the next level.

Not yet. This is too important.

You told me “often.”

And you’ve been getting often, you stupid shit.

“She’ll never learn to sustain flight like that.” Familiar male voice. Behind him.

Paris didn’t bother turning around. “What do you suggest?” He was willing to take suggestions in this, and only this.

Zacharel sidled up to him, his fingers stroking his stubble-free chin. “I can only teach her the way I was taught. She must stand at the edge of the roof and spread her wings as far as she can get them.”

“What if I fall?” she gasped. “I won’t be able to catch myself in the air.”

“You will not fall,” the angel said, and the layer of truth in his voice was as convincing as ever.

Sienna met Paris’s eyes, and he nodded. Flying was important. Flying could one day save her soul. Because yes, as the shadows had proven, even souls could be ravaged.

Gulping, she brushed past him. The moment her fingers trailed over his, he grabbed on to them, linked their hands and decided to walk with her. Her trembling increased with every step.

“Afraid of heights, baby?” he asked, when they reached the flat edge.

“I shouldn’t be, but that’s a long way down.”

“S’all good. We won’t let anything happen to you. Promise.”

“Step back,” Zacharel commanded, and though reluctant to sever contact, Paris obeyed. “Now stretch your wings,” the angel said to Sienna.

Those black gossamer wings extended to their full length, lovely in a way he’d never before noticed. A deep, rich purple veined the black, swirled in the center and stretched to the tips.

“Excellent. Now, try not to let this next part frighten you.” Without any further warning, Zacharel pushed her off the ledge.

She gave a horrified gasp as she tumbled from the roof, heading down…down…

“Noooo!” Paris’s stomach bottomed out as he launched forward, meaning to dive off after her.

The angel stopped him with a right uppercut to the jaw, sending him propelling backward. Sex whimpered at the pain exploding through his head, but refused to retreat, refused to hide.

“You said she wouldn’t fall!” Paris shouted as he stood, intending to try again. He was going after her, and that was that.

“She didn’t fall. I pushed her.”

“If she’s hurt—”

Zacharel vanished, reappearing a second later with Sienna at his side. There was a green tint to her skin, and when she realized solid ground held her up, she hunched over, gagging, trembling uncontrollably.

“You…bastard…” she got out.

“This is the only way to learn.” No emotion layered Zacharel’s voice. Just a whole lot of what’d-I-do-wrong.“This is how we are taught. Besides, you are a soul. Had you made contact with the ground, I doubt you would have burst open like a melon.”

“You doubt!”

“Find your brave core, demon girl. Step back up and we will try again.”

Paris delivered an uppercut of his own. The angel’s head whipped to the side, blood leaking from the gash in his bottom lip, but he merely straightened and blinked in confusion.

“You do anything like that again, and I will end you.” Paris didn’t wait for a reply, but gathered Sienna in his arms and carried her to their room.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

“WHY DON’T you take a shower and relax, baby?” Paris said as he set Sienna down on their bed. “I’ll be back in a few.”

She had no idea what he was planning or where he was going, but she nodded. She could use a little alone time. Her heartbeat was currently engaged in a world-record race.

He kissed her forehead and was off, shutting her inside. Shower, yes, that’s what she needed. After all, she had just plunged toward certain death, unable to force her wings to work, and the only reason she had survived was that the angel who’d tried to off her had caught her seconds before the splat.

Punish,Wrath said.

The first time he’d ever wanted to hurt an angel. Either he’d taken the shove personally or his hunger had returned.

On her stumble into the bathroom, she noticed that Viola had come through for her. A ring rested on the nightstand, its only stone a huge amethyst in the center. Good. Yeah. Good. Not heartbreaking.

The warm water relaxed her somewhat, but she had no desire to linger. Just shampooed, soaped up, rinsed off and towel-dried. About five minutes had elapsed. What a day. And yet, despite the near-death experience, she had a feeling that, when she looked back, this would be her favorite day of all time. Paris had said he loved her.

Not saying it back had nearly destroyed her, especially as he’d worked her over, his hands sliding along her wings, caressing yet firm, as he taught her what he knew about flying. But she was leaving him tomorrow, never to return, never to see him again, and well, yeah. Not going there.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, facing her, his elbows resting on his knees. He wore an expression she’d never seen on him before, one of such glowing tenderness her knees almost buckled.

“Come here,” he said.

Dropping the towel, naked and glistening, she obeyed without hesitation, stopping between his spread legs. His big hands settled on her hips, his thumbs lightly rasping over the flare of her waist. She shivered.

“Where did you go?” She tunneled her fingers through his hair, adoring the soft strands as they lifted and fell.

“Just out in the hall. I was going to lose it, and I didn’t want you to see. Punched a few holes in the wall. Now I just want to hold you for a minute. Okay?”

Always.“Yes.”

He tugged her closer, his arms tightening around her, and then he laid his head just over her breast, his warm breath trekking over her skin, his ear pressed into her heartbeat. They stayed like that for a long while, until she was shaking with the need to touch him, to be with him fully.

He must have sensed her desire because he urged her forward, taking more of her weight, more, until he lay flat and she was on top of him. Then he turned both their bodies sideways, rolled her and settled her in front of him, so that he cradled her. His chest to her spine, his erection pressing between her cheeks.

“Let me love you,” he whispered. “I want to fill you and move in you and come in you. I want to be so deep in you, baby. So damn deep.” His hand moved between her breasts, angled, and kneaded the upper, rubbing against her nipple, creating the most delicious friction.

“Yes,” she repeated. Her brain was fogging, her every thought belonging to him, to what he was doing.

His other hand moved between her legs and found the center of her desire. “All this honey. All mine.” One finger burrowed into the gap her legs created and penetrated her, then another.

She rocked with his inward strokes, arching into him. “I love the way you work me.”

He nibbled on her ear. Slid a third finger home. Moan after moan cut through her throat, booming through the room.

“Get me all wet, baby. I want you all over me, coating me, drenching me.”

She continued to rock…rock against him, losing herself, happy to lose herself, never wanting to be found, desperate to remain here, with him, always, lost, so lost.

“So perfect. More.”

She squeezed her eyelids shut, her ears picking up sounds she’d previously missed. The hard rasp of his breath, coming faster and faster. The shift of his hips against the sheets, the slow grind of flesh against flesh. “Paris.”

“I’m going to do you so good.” His voice was guttural, almost totally animal. “I’m going to be in you, and I’m going to have you down my throat, your taste in my mouth. You’re going to welcome me inside, aren’t you.”

“Oh, yes. Please, yes.”

He removed his fingers, and she cried out, her desperation for him cranking out of control. How he’d get everything he wanted, she didn’t know, but at least she wasn’t empty for long. He clutched her upper knee and parted her legs, and without a pause in the glide of his hips, he slid as deep as he’d promised. She cried out again, this time in relief, stretched and filled and nearly insane with her need for more.

He moved in her, even as he traced her lips with his wet fingers—wet with her—and slid two digits inside her mouth. “Suck them.”

She did, oh, she did, tasting herself, the erotic act new for her, but so damn arousing. She rolled those fingers around, sucked on them as commanded, bit down on them. Then his fingers were gone and he was angling her face, and his mouth was pressing against hers, his tongue darting inside, taking the taste of her into himself. All the while he moved in her, so, so deep, then almost all the way out, then so, sooooodeep.

This was more than sex, some distant instinct told her; this was a bonding, a mating. He was all over her, in her, and she was all over him, in him. This man…oh, this man. She couldn’t get enough, would never get enough.

“Where am I?” he suddenly demanded. His thrusts were becoming jerkier, slamming inside harder, harsher.

“Here.” A moan of passion. “With me.”

“Where am I?”

“All over me. In me.”

“Yeah. That’s right. All over you. In you. I’m yours, and you are mine.” He dove back in for another soul-stealing kiss, shattering her, claiming her. “You like this.”

Not a question, but she answered anyway. “Love. This.” As many times as they’d been together, he’d never been this intense, this focused on ownership. And hell, she wanted to own him, too. She reached up and back and fisted his hair, holding on tight, not caring when the strands pulled.

He hissed in a breath.

Her hips arched back, with force this time, slamming into him. Both of them groaned at the bliss. She edged ever closer to release, and he was right there with her.

“Take me, baby. Take all of me. Yeah. That’s it. You know the way.”

Pressure, building and building, consuming. Just a little more… “Paris!” One more hard slam and she was shooting into the stars, pleasure flooding her in a rush, a storm. Her inner walls clutched at him, grabbing on to him, letting him know he was where he belonged, that this was right, that they were right.

He rolled her all the way to her stomach, pressing her face into the pillows, and hammered harder, faster. A roar ripped out of him, as rough as his thrusts, and he filled her up, coming and coming and coming some more. She was right there with him, launching into a second orgasm, one that snuck up on her, but took her ever higher.

When she came back to earth, she blinked open her eyes. Had she passed out? She must have, because Paris was on his side, and she was on her side, and they were facing each other, but she didn’t recall moving. His breathing was a little off, so she didn’t think very much time had passed. He’d drawn the sheet over their bodies and was peering over at her, as if memorizing her features.

“I want to leave with you,” he said. “Go somewhere Cronus can’t find you. Where no one can hurt you.”

Her heart lurched. No one—meaning his friends. “I told you. I don’t want you to be mad at anyone on my behalf.”

“They disrespected you.”

“And I deserved it.”

“No!” He threw a punch, his fist going through the headboard, wood shards raining. “ Itold younot to talk like that. And the next time you do, I’m putting you over my knee. They aren’t perfect, not a single one of them. We’ve all done things. Things that would shame hardened criminals.”

“Well, they’re reformed.”

“So are you. I’m not saying I want to leave them forever. I love them. Need them. I just want to give them time to accept you. And just so you know, if I ever treated their women the way they’ve treated you, they would retaliate.”

She had to change the subject. Had. To.He was melting her resolve. Being what she needed, saying such wonderful things. And he meant them. His tone was all about the serious.

“Hiding from Cronus,” she said. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Gradually he relaxed. “There are medallions. Whoever wears them is hidden from him and all his followers. He gave them to us once, then took them away. I can steal one.”

And enrage the beast, placing himself in eternal danger? “No. I have to do this, Paris. I have to go to Galen, and Cronus is going to take me. I just have to,” she finished lamely. For you, for me.

“That’s it?” Anger returned to those electric eyes. “You’re not even going to think about it? When the very idea of my enemy breathing the same air as you drives me to commit murder?”

Her own anger sparked. “When it comes to putting you in danger? When it comes to making sure you survive? There isn’t anything to think about.”

He softened, but only slightly. “Same with me. I don’t want you in danger. Ever. And you think about this. I will waste away without you. Yeah, I know I’m the king of manipulation, playing on your emotions, but I will do anythingto keep you. I will kill. I will lie. I will betray and cheat and steal. I will topple mountains.”

“Paris, I—”

He wasn’t done. “All my life I have fought and I have fucked, and I thought I was happy until you pissed me off and woke me up and I realized I’d simply existed and accepted. And you might have gotten my attention through my demon, but you kept it because of you.I could have anyone right now, and no, that isn’t ego or a front, it’s just me telling you that now that Sex knows I’m committed, he’s making me hard for every damn female in the place, or he was, and he can again, but I don’t want them and I won’t take them.”

Careful, girl.This man, this man she loved,could talk her into anything. There could be no spending the rest of the night with him. She had to leave. And she had to leave now.

The knowledge shattered her.

“Sienna, baby. I know I’m coming on strong. I know I’m pushing for a lot. Just…give me some time, okay? We’ll figure this out. There’s a solution, there has to be. Trust me.”

So many pieces of her, scattered and broken, never to be fitted back together. “I do,” she croaked. “I trust you.” The truth, but it wouldn’t stop her.

“Good.” He must have assumed she’d agreed to give him time.

She didn’t correct the mistake.

“Now, I want you to listen to me. Do you remember when I told you not to let anyone smell your blood, to always clean yourself up if you are injured?” He waited for her nod before he went on. “That’s because Cronus has made you into an ambrosia spout. Your blood is a drug for immortals and highly addictive.”

“That’s not—” Yeah, no reason to finish that sentence. Anything was possible. She was living—er, undead—proof of that. Bitterness rose, joining the anger and the hopelessness. “How did he do it? Whywould he?” Even as she spoke, she knew the answer to the latter.

Why—so that she could more easily “seduce” and control Galen. That’s how she would keep his interest. How dare he do this! she seethed. How dare he turn her into a…a…walking narcotic!

Punish…PUNISH.

Yes. She would punish. Would that stop her from doing what needed doing? No. Not when Paris’s life was at stake. But, oh, she and Cronus would have a reckoning one day.

Wrath grunted his approval.

Gruff, Paris said, “I’m sorry about what happened, baby. I wish I could go back, stop him.”

Melting… “Is there a way to fix me?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

She leaned into Paris, pressing her lips into his. He wanted to continue the conversation, she could tell, but he was into the kiss and accepted her tongue, taking it as his right—and it was. While he was distracted, she reached for the ring Viola had left her. Slid the metal onto her middle finger.

Tears burned the backs of her eyes. Do it.

“Sienna,” Paris said. He cupped her jaw as he liked to do, as gentle as if she were a precious treasure he couldn’t bear to bruise. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking. Please.”

Do it. Do it!First, one more kiss, just one more. She dove back in, filling her mouth with his special taste. All that heat and chocolate. What lay ahead of her was an eternity of misery, but then, that was her punishment, wasn’t it. For what she’d done to him before. Part of her even thought Wrath approved, for the demon was now purring in the back of her mind, as he’d done for Olivia, feeding off Sienna’s sorrow.

Do. It.Still she hesitated. Was she going to talk herself out of this? No, oh, no. She was talking herself into it, she realized when her next thought hit. Paris had to fall out of love with her. He just had to. He had to forget the vow he’d made her, and live. Live happily.

And so she did it. She did the one thing guaranteed to make him hate her.

She positioned her ringed finger at his throat, just as she’d done once before, that day they’d first met. His pulse was erratic, a drunken drumbeat.

DO IT.A tragic “I’m sorry” left her as she struck. She shouldn’t have said that. Should have been cold, heartless.

His eyes flared wide. “What the—” Comprehension bled into his irises, even as they glazed. The liquid had broken the blood/brain barrier instantly. Rather than shout at her, curse at her, he slurred out, “Don’t leave me. Don’t…leave… Stay…mine…please…”

Though he fought the effects, he couldn’t stop them, and his eyelids drifted shut. His arms plopped to his sides. He was very still, his chest rising and falling evenly. Took everything she had to climb out of the bed. To dress in clothing Cronus had provided for her, choosing a long-sleeved T-shirt that fit around her wings, black leather pants and combat boots. She quaked the entire time, tears pouring down her cheeks.

She claimed two daggers, and neither of them were crystal. Those she left on the nightstand, resting next to each other. They were his. He would need them. She strapped the weapons on her wrists, hilts down. A shake of her arms, and those blades would slide right into her palms.

For a moment, she closed her eyes. Had to be done, had to be done,she chanted. Didn’t make her ache any less, or feel any better. Or any less guilty. Why couldn’t Paris have looked at her with anger there at the end? Why’d he have to be so understanding?

She refused to delude herself. He would come after her.

She had to stop him.

Though she almost broke down and sobbed when she exited the bedroom, she somehow managed to pick herself up and scour the castle. She found Lucien down the hall, in the room he’d claimed for his own. He sat in a velvet-lined chair, a glass of something amber in one hand, the other wrapped around Anya, who perched in his lap.

He sensed the intrusion immediately, his gaze arrowing straight for Sienna. He set his glass on the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Anya demanded. “You tensed.”

When he registered Sienna’s identity, he relaxed, his scarred face easing off the someone’s-gonna-diethrottle. “Anya, sweetheart, will do you something for me?” he asked, tenderly running his fingers through her fall of pale hair.

“Anything, Flowers.” She licked up his neck, humming ecstatically. “You know that.”

He fisted a thick lock and lifted her head, forcing the pleasuring to end. “Will you go to the kitchen and make me some hot chocolate? With whipped cream andmarshmallows?”

“Wait. What?” Her red lips pulled into a frown. “I thought you wanted me to do something totally, absolutely freaky to your body, and I was one-hundred-percent racer ready for that. Hot chocolate—”

“Anya. Please. I have a craving.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you pregnant?”

“Anya.”

“What? It’s a legit question right now, considering what you’re willing to give up, but fine. My man has a craving.” Off Anya went, grumbling, leaving Lucien alone with Sienna and not realizing it.

“I drugged Paris,” she admitted. And wow, what a way to kick things off poorly.

Scowling, Lucien jumped to his feet. “Did you hurt him?”

“No, no. Of course not.” She leaned against the door, no longer able to hold herself up. “Cronus wants me to go…to Galen…to spy for him, to control him.” Why was this so difficult? She’d drugged the man she loved; this should be as easy as breathing. “It’s the only way to save Paris, and you guys, from certain death. The longer I stay here, the more likely the chance Galen will get to Cronus, and Rhea will take the throne.” And the harder it would be to leave Paris.

His blue eye swirled, hypnotizing her, while his brown one seemed to lock her in place. “I could accuse you of lying, of saying this so that we won’t suspect you of rejoining your flock and sharing our secrets.”

Her tongue thickened with the need to curse, but she plowed ahead anyway. “Yeah. You could. And that’s fine, more of the same, but Paris, he trusts me and he wants me to stay. He wouldn’t let me go.”

In the ensuing silence, she noticed something. Wrath was quiet now; he’d truly fed from her pain and her actions, and wasn’t concerned by Lucien in any way. And also, maybe she’d gotten it right before and Aeron had already won this battle. Maybe the Lords were exempt from the demon’s brand of justice. Whatever. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be around them anymore, was she? Wrath could feed off her sorrow for eternity.

“Paris will want to come after me,” she said. “You know he will.”

A dark brow knitted into Lucien’s hairline. “So he can retaliate for being drugged?”

“No. To save me from Galen.”

His lips pursed as he considered her words. “What do you want me to do?”

“Stop him.” The words were shards of glass in her throat. “I have to stay with Galen, have to somehow find a way to control him.”

“Here’s a tip. Kill him,” Lucien suggested.

If only. “Cronus says I can’t, that if Galen dies you guys die, too. This is the way. The only way.” As she spoke, she straightened her shoulders. Her determination grew, turned her into a rock.

Sienna wasn’t weak, and she wasn’t a coward. Not any longer. She was doing this, even at the expense of her own happiness. “Don’t let him come for me. Keep him here, and keep him strong. So. Yeah. That’s all I came to say.”

A long, torturous pause as he considered his reply. “You know what you’re asking, right?”

“Yes.” To mask the newest flood of tears, she looked down at her booted feet. “You’re a good friend to him, and I’m glad.” Getting choked up again.“I’m glad he has you. Take care of him, Lucien. If ever there’s information I obtain that can help you, I will somehow send it on. Trust it or not, but it will be there if you want it.”

“Sienna—”

“Just…take care of him, like I said.” No need to open the door. She simply stepped through it and pounded her way to the roof.

There was only one thing left to do.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

SIENNA’S WINGS LIFTED properly and were no longer dragging against the floor. Her shoulders ached, but the shooting pains were nothing she couldn’t handle. She was determined. Still rock-solid. Unbendable.

She would do this. Wouldn’t waver.

She pushed her way onto the roof, the cloying darkness of the realm once more enveloping her. No sign of that shadow guy…thing, but of course, his blood toll had been paid and he’d vowed to leave everyone alone. Whether or not he’d keep his word, she couldn’t be sure. Wrath had sensed the menace in him, yet the images the demon had shot through her head had been grainy and, well, shadowed, confusing them both.

Nothing had been clear, so she had no idea what the shadow guy was capable of doing. She trusted him because she had no other choice.

In the center of the parapet, she stopped and spread her arms. There was no hesitating to take a breath. No reflecting on what could have, should have, been. “Cronus! Cronus! I summon you!”

A flash of white at her left. Heart thumping, she spun. The angel Zacharel had taken shape, lovely in his heavenly glory, glowing with an aura that pulsed with energy, yet seeing him caused a tremor of fear to crawl down her spine. His expression was devoid of emotion, those white-and-gold wings spread regally, his robe pristine.

Wrath reacted as if he’d just spotted Olivia. Heaven!

“My people need you, Sienna,” Zacharel said. “I told you this.”

She raised her chin. “And I told you to get in line.”

“Why do that when I can simply take what I want?”

“If you could settle for my unwillingness, you would have taken me already.”

He inclined his head at her logic. “Then come with me of your own accord. You are the key to our victory.”

So sick of those words.“Why am I the key? Howam I the key?”

“I do not know.”

So sick of nonanswers.“Well, then, you don’t get the key. Besides, I didn’t think angels and demons ever worked together.”

The slightest softening around his emerald eyes. “High Lord demons, like the one inside you, were angels once. I know—knew—your Wrath. Once upon a time, his justice was not perverted or warped, but fair and right.”

“That doesn’t change my mind.” Where the hell was Cronus? “Paris comes first, and this is my way to save him.” And if Paris himself hadn’t changed her mind about her current path, Zacharel had no chance.

His brow furrowed as he tossed her words through his mind. “Why do you love him?” He sounded genuinely baffled. “Why do you sacrifice yourself and your happiness for him?”

“He is strong.”

A snort. “Others are strong.”

She remembered doing the same thing to Paris, contradicting everything he said. Had shebeen this annoying? “He’s smart, and giving, and caring, and kind, and—”

“He is a killer.”

Though her eyes narrowed, she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “He is protective of me, and he makes me feel special. He takes care of me. And he sacrifices for me, too.”

“You wish a sacrifice to be made? Done. Name your price and I will see to it immediately.”

Hope ignited. “Can you save Paris from the fate Cronus showed me? In two of the potential futures, he dies. Can you save him and his friends?”

“No,” Zacharel replied honestly, and that shouldn’t have surprised her but it did. “The roadways have already been paved, the vehicles placed upon them and in motion. There are no breaks.”