Текст книги "The darkest seduction"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“Paris,” she whispered. His skin was fever-bright, flushed and beaded with sweat. He was gloriously naked, and thickly aroused. His eyes were calm behind his lids, his chest barely rising with his breaths. “Oh, Paris.” I can’t let him get like this again. Have to do something.

“Sienna?”

She rushed over to him and kissed him, knowing even so small a gesture would help revive him. The more their tongues dueled, the more aggressive he became. When his lids flipped open, eyes of brilliant red pinned her. With a growl, he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her to her back. Her heart sped into a superbeat as her wings flared to avoid being crushed.

He ripped at her clothes, shredding them. The very moment she was naked, he had her legs spread and was inside her, thrusting hard and deep.

As he worked her, he threw back his head and roared. She arched up and took him even deeper. Brutally, wondrously.

She’d missed this, missed him. Needed this, needed him. Her nails went to his ass and guided him into a faster rhythm. The passion swept her up, overwhelmed her, consumed her, broke her heart and fit the pieces back together. Her love for him knew no bounds, had no limits.

Just as climax loomed, he stopped. Just stopped, and peered down at her, panting breaths bursting over her. The flush had drained from his cheeks, and realization now flooded his eyes, followed by concern and horror.

“Oh, baby. Did I hurt you?” His thumbs dusted over her lips with exquisite care.

“Talk later. Make love now.” So close. Any second now, she would hurtle into satisfaction.

His cock jerked inside her, as if the command had sparked all kinds of naughty desires. “How are you here?”

“Later!” She squeezed at his massive length.

“Yesss.”His hips pistoned once, pistoned again, and then he was slamming in and out, and they were both moaning. Then his lips were on hers, and their tongues were intertwining, and she was swallowing his taste, and it was better than ever, and she couldn’t get enough, never wanted this to end, and…and…and… Oh!

Little pleasure bombs exploded through every inch of her. His name left her mouth over and over again, the chorus joined by his shouting of hername as he came. He jetted white-hot, giving her every drop of his passion. She relished the moment, savoring him, thrilled by all that he was.

When he fell on top of her, she cradled his weight, exactly where she wanted to be. Where she wanted to stay, forever. She’d left him once. She didn’t think she could leave him again.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

“You better,” he murmured against her ear.

That’s my man.Such a Paris thing to say, and she grinned.

He disengaged and rolled to his side, but kept her close, his arm wrapped around her. “And now that I’m not dying,” he announced, expression growing somber, “we talk.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

PARIS KEPT HIS BODY LAX, not wanting to make Sienna uncomfortable, or aware of the fact that he basically had her in a choke hold. A gentle choke hold, one that did nothing to impair her ability to breathe, but a choke hold all the same.

She wasn’t going anywhere, and that was that.

Thankfully, Sex was out for the count and unable to comment.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s talk. I’ll start. Do you hate me now?”

“Hate you? Baby, that might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. No offense.”

“None taken. I’m too relieved. After what I did to you…”

“All you did was remind me that I need to up my game where you’re concerned.” And honestly? Her actions had given him hope that she felt as deeply for him as he felt for her.

“You’re not mad at me for going to Galen?”

When he would have done the same thing? “Only at myself. I should have sated you so sublimely, you were never again able to walk.”

“A little more practice on your end,” she teased, “and that’ll be a possibility.”

“Witch.”

When she reached up to brush her hair off her face, he saw that she was cut up and bruised. He swallowed back a bark of fury. Having been restrained a time or twelve throughout his life, he recognized the markings for what they were. Rope burns. “Did Galen do this to you?”

Dread shuttered her features. “No, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

Very well. He wanted to reassure her about a few things first, anyway. But he wouldfind out who had harmed her afterward, and as soon as he did, he was going on a rampage for revenge.

“That means you’re ready for talk, part two,” he said, all hint of his amusement gone.

“I—I don’t know about that.”

“Too bad. You need to know that I didn’t sleep with anyone while we were apart.” No matter how weak he’d gotten, no matter how many females his friends had shoved at him. Finally, all but Lucien had continued on their quest to find Sienna.

Mental note: tell Death to call off the search party.

Speaking of, he was pretty sure Lucien had popped in while they were having sex, thinking to protect him from whatever had come to kill him, then had popped back out when he realized what was going on.

“I know.” The tips of her fingers traced languid circles around his nipples. “I trust you. But Paris, you were so near death.” She kissed his chest, just above his heart. “I don’t like that you allowed yourself to get in that condition.”

“Don’t care. And just so you know, Sex missed you, too. You wear a lot of hats, and he wants to do them all.”

She chuckled, a warm, rich sound that acted as manna for his ears. “Right now I’ve got my stern taskmaster hat on, so you two better listen. I have to leave. I just have to, but I need to know you’re taking care of yourself and—”

“No.”

“Don’t be that way.”

“Try to leave. Just try it. See what happens.”

“Paris—”

“You stay or I let myself fade. End of story. Promise me.”

Such heavy silence. “I have a plan I have to see through.”

“Plans change. Deal.”

She banged her fist against his chest. “You are so frustrating.”

“Tell me what I want to hear, Sienna.”

A sigh slipped from her, seeming to drain the fight out of her. “Fine. I’m staying with you, but we’re going to have to brainstorm a solution to our Cronus and Rhea problem, our Galen problem, and our you’re-gonna-die-prophecy problem. Because, did I tell you? Cronus told me that if Galen dies, you and your friends die. If Cronus dies, you and your friends die.”

“I’m not saying I doubt what you’ve heard, but I do doubt the source. But even if what he said is true, there will be a way around this prophecy. There always is. I’m not worried in the least.” In fact, he was overjoyed. And were those tearsin his eyes? Yeah. Yeah, they were. If that made him a wuss, that made him a wuss. He didn’t care. She was here, she was staying. She was his.

He glided his arm from around her neck to her lower back, splaying his fingers over her curves. “Thank you,” he said, but the words weren’t enough. They didn’t convey enough. “And now that we’re officially together, I want to tell you some things about me. I want everything out in the open, nothing hidden. I want to share all that I am.”

She must have sensed the direction he headed. “You don’t have to. What happened in the past is the past.”

“Full disclosure. I want you to know what you’re getting with me. That way, if Wrath ever shows you something, or my friends ever say anything, we’ll already have dealt with it.”

“Whatever you say won’t change the way I feel about you.”

“I’m glad, but I’m doing it anyway.”

Her sigh caressed his skin oh, so deliciously. “All right.”

She loved him. She’d copped to the feeling. This would be okay. “I’m an ambrosia addict. But I haven’t touched the stuff since before reaching you,” he rushed to add. “And if something ever happens and I’m exposed to your blood, you don’t have to worry. I will nothurt you.”

Her silky hair tickled his chest as she nodded. “I know you won’t hurt me, but Paris, I drugged you. I didn’t know about your addiction, or I would have found another way to knock you out. I am so, sosorry, and I will never forgive myself.”

He hated the implication that she would have left him still, but he drank up her concern for him. “Forgive yourself right now. That’s an order. But I will, of course, be spanking you before Iforgive you.”

The most adorable noise escaped her, a snort and a laugh combined. “I accept the spanking. Deserve it.”

His lips twitched with the sweetest kind of humor. “You can’t accept your own punishment, baby. You’ll have to fight me.”

She purred, actually purred, and the vibrations had him rock-hard again.

Tell her the rest, so you can move on to the good stuff.He lost his half grin. “Okay, here’s part three. I know you told me you’ve seen my past, but I’m not sure if Wrath showed you everything. I told you about that one slave, but he wasn’t the only one. I’ve…been with men.”

Not even a pause. “Oh, yeah? Well, in college I kissed a girl. She was my roommate, it was raining outside, dark with the occasional flashes of lightning, romantic yet scary. You know how it goes.”

That she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it, that she again just accepted each facet of him…no wonder he loved this woman. “Did you like it?”

“I kinda did,” Sienna said in a scandalized whisper.

Mmm, but he liked her scandalized. Wondered what he could do to ramp that up, what would make her nervous but too excited to say no. Finding out, well, he’d never looked forward to a bedding more.

“Later, after your spanking, we’re gonna do a little role playing. I’m going to be your sweet, innocent roommate, Parette, and you’re going to demonstrate that kiss on me.” And then I’m going to talk you into doing things you’ve only ever dreamed about.

“Incorrigible beast.”

“But you love me anyway.”

“I love you always.”

Before he could respond, there was an explosion of white light at the front of the tent. In a flurry of movement and frothing rage, Paris grabbed both the crystal blades, pressing one into Sienna’s hand. He was standing a moment later, unconcerned by his nakedness.

Cronus had arrived, and if his fearsome scowl was any indication, he was ticked. First instinct: attack. Paris tamped it down. Barely. Second: recon. Answers, he needed answers.

The king’s narrowed gaze slid past Paris and onto Sienna, who had just finished righting her clothing. “You ruined everything,” he growled.

Paris moved in front of her, blocking the king’s view. Cronus merely pointed to the side of the tent, and Paris was propelled there on a powerful gust of wind, his arms spread, his legs spread, invisible ropes tying him in place. Though he fought, he couldn’t free himself.

Helpless. Just like that. Panic was like bitter pills in his mouth, and he swallowed so many he might just overdose.

Darkness…so much darkness…I will hurt him. I will kill him.He struggled so viciously his muscles began to tear from his bones. That didn’t slow him.

A scowling Sienna popped to her feet. Use the crystal,he projected with the last vestiges of his control. She didn’t; she stood her ground, her chin held high.

“I’m not going back to Galen,” she announced.

“Even if he were addicted to you, Galen will not trust or follow you now. He hates you. You took his prisoner, damaged his soldier, and he is not the type to forgive or forget. To him, every offense is to be returned a thousandfold.”

Those gossamer black wings extended. “There’s another way. We’ll find it. Just give us time.”

“Time? Time.” Menace pulsed from Cronus. “You once asked me why I wanted you willing. The answer was simple. Eventually you would have turned on me. Now you have and that’s no longer a concern. So, no, I’m afraid you’re out of time. Now I will destroy everything you hold dear.”

Paris snarled as Cronus vanished and reappeared in front of Sienna in a single blink. He snagged her by the hair. At last Paris managed to free himself, both shoulders popping out of joint. He was running for them. Nearly upon them.

Just before he reached her, Sienna shouted, “Zacharel! I summon you.”

Cronus reached out and stabbed Paris just before Paris reached them. Sienna gasped. The pair vanished, her gaze locked on Paris as he fell to his knees, a searing pain consuming him.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

“WE ARE NOTDOING THIS again,” Sienna shouted, worried for Paris, desperate to return to him. “I’m sick of everyone flinging me where they want me to be.” Black, all around her. In her nose, in her lungs, pouring through her bloodstream. No color, no life, just an endless void. “That ends now.”

“You failed to take the easiest route, and now you’ll have to live with Plan B,” Cronus said, his voice slithering from the nothingness.

I won’t ask. His plans mean nothing to me.

“Zacharel!” she called again. Work with the angels? Why not? She would learn to fly properly, and finally, once and for all, control her own destiny.

A flicker of light. A return of the dark. Another flicker, lasting just a bit longer. She caught a glimpse of big, puffy clouds, glued to an endless expanse of night sky. A star here, a star there, twinkling from their perches like eyes trained on her, watching her every move. She must be in another realm. One without a single living creature in residence.

She turned a full circle, and found Cronus standing a few yards away. His arms were crossed over his chest, his legs braced apart. She was suddenly very grateful she’d maintained her grip on the crystal blade Paris had given her.

“Another reason I wanted your willingness,” Cronus said. “If you had turned on me, you would have become Rhea’s soldier and therefore been under her protection.”

Now he wanted to talk? Well, he could take his confessions and shove them. “I’m warning you. Return me to Paris. Now.”

He arched a mocking brow at her. “Or what?”

“Or I will fight you.” Planned to, anyway. You just sped things along.

A booming laugh, sharp and bitter, even anticipatory. “You could try.”

“Return me to Paris,” she repeated. “This is your last chance.”

He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Rhea did not kill your sister. I did.”

Her heart skipped a beat as denial rushed through her. “No.” A lie, surely. One meant to punish her. Because, if he were telling the truth, she would have helped the very man who’d destroyed her precious Skye, leaving her bloody and broken, her last memory of a knife slicking through her skin. She would have bled for the man who had destroyed an innocent. She would very nearly have sacrificed her own life and happiness for her sister’s killer…

No!

And yet, Wrath’s earlier insistence that something had been wrong suddenly made sense. The moisture evaporated from her mouth. A knot grew in her throat, and she had trouble drawing in the necessary oxygen. Dizziness took center stage in her head.

“I held her in my hands, and I slit her throat. I watched the life drain out of her. I killed her husband first. Made her watch. I can prove it.” He reached up and jerked a chain from around his neck. A butterfly carved from a black diamond dangled from the center.

In the next moment, the shield that had prevented Wrath from seeing his sins crumpled to nothing. She clutched her temples, squeezed her eyes closed as the scene unfolded inside her head. Cronus, holding Skye and a human male at his sides. Making them kneel. Stabbing the male. Skye, fighting, shoving herself into his blade. Skye, bleeding. Cronus, finishing her off. Skye, dying.

Nausea rolled through Sienna’s stomach, a churning acid threatening to boil up and out. A fury drenched in seething flames and sharpened by jagged bits of glass.

“I have lived for millennia,” Cronus said. “Think you I have not learned a few tricks along the way?”

We will punish him.A whisper. WE WILL PUNISH HIM.A scream.

I will,she replied. A vow. Oh, I will.For Skye. For Paris. For herself.

“You ruined my plan, and now I will ruin yours,” he seethed. “I will bargain with Galen. For his eternal allegiance, I will hand you over, his to punish as he sees fit. If you run from him, I will bring you back to him. And if you think to flee to your demon lover, I will make Paris suffer before I kill him. And have no doubt, I will kill him. He thinks to take revenge on me for everything I’ve done to you.”

The king had made that kind of threat one too many times.

Hatred joined the sickness, as did a dollop of darkness. Violence waltzed between those shadows, the urge to maim and destroy so strong she felt as if she were drowning in them. She didn’t fight them; she embraced them.

He wouldbe punished. Here. Today.

Hold,Wrath said. Not yet…not quite yet…

She didn’t know what Wrath planned; she only knew she trusted him to lead her in vengeance.

Cronus added blithely, “Did you know four artifacts are needed to find Pandora’s box? Galen has one, and the Lords have three. That will change. I will take the All-Seeing Eye, the Cage of Compulsion and the Paring Rod, and I will bestow them on Galen. All four artifacts will be his. He will be so grateful for my gifts, he will vow never to harm me. He will find the box, and your precious Lords will die.”

Hold…

“You trust Galen that much, do you? You actually think he’ll keep his word? That he won’t try and take yourdemon, too?” She flashed a patronizing smile. “I bet he’s as trustworthy as you are. So, after you do all of that for him and he goes in for the kill shot, what will you do, hmm? Are you going to fight him? Or finally accept your death sentence as your due?”

Cronus stalked to her, but stopped midway, his ears twitching. A smug, eerie laugh bubbled from him. “Speak of the devil. Or in this case, the man who masquerades as angel. Galen approaches, woman. And never has a warrior been angrier. He wants what you stole from him, and he will extract his pound of flesh from your body.”

Hold…

“Bring it,” she said. Because, yeah, she was going to punish Galen, too. Punish him for every crime he’d ever committed against Paris. For everything he’d done to Legion. Everything he’d ever thoughtto do. At long last.

The king’s nostrils flared. He clearly wasn’t fond of her lack of fear.

Well, too bad.

Hold…

“No worries, baby. We’ve already brought it,” Paris said from behind Cronus.

The darkness fell away, as if a curtain had been jerked to the floor. Bright light exploded, the sun shining so vividly. Her eyes stung, but she kept them open. Paris was pale and bloody but steady on his feet. He stood with the rest of the Lords behind Cronus, who spun to face them. They were armed for war. Unlike in the painting, they weren’t here to protect him.

Even better, an army of warriors whose white wings proclaimed them angels stood behind them, and theywere armed for war. Zacharel claimed the helm. Every time she’d encountered him, his lack of emotion had amazed and even disturbed her. Now, she was grateful for it. He was determination itself, as cold and cruel as the snow falling from him, clearly willing to do anythingto meet his goals.

“You broke the rules, Cronus,” the warrior angel said flatly, “and now you will pay.”

What rules?

“Mind if we join the party?” another voice—a female voice—said from behind Sienna. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for far too long.”

Sienna whipped around to see a beautiful brunette who could only be Rhea. The regal Titan queen stood beside Galen, who was glaring at Sienna as if he would come for her first. An army of Hunters flanked them, and she recognized a few faces.

I’ve picked my side. Beware,she projected through her narrowed eyes.

“What is this?” Cronus demanded.

“The first battle of the new war,” Zacharel replied gravely.

“Well, then. It begins. I’ll need my own army, won’t I?” He waved his hand and a great throng of his people appeared, Titan gods and goddesses enveloping him, hiding him in a sea of stunning, flawless faces and immaculate, jewel-studded gowns and togas. They were obviously confused by the sudden change of scenery and none were armed.

When they spotted the unrest surrounding them, they wised up fast. Weapons of every kind appeared out of thin air.

“To the death!” Cronus shouted.

As if his voice was the starting bell, the armies rushed each other.

Now!Wrath shouted at her.

Sienna opened her mind to her demon, allowing him to take over, and threw herself into the thick of the action.

CHAPTER FIFTY

PRIORITY ONE: SIENNA.

For once, Sex didn’t hide deep in a corner of Paris’s mind. The demon, on a high from their woman’s body, pumped strength straight into his veins as he rushed toward her, the wound from his stabbing having already healed. The darkness inside him frothed and writhed, guiding him but not consuming him. The three of them were one.

When he saw a man, a Hunter, coming up behind Sienna with a Glock raised and aimed, he roared, quickened his pace. Met the guy with an arcing blade to the throat before a single shot was fired, even as he spun his woman behind him.

Zacharel had warned him that up here, in this realm between realms just above the heart of the heavens, everyonecould see her. And if they could see her, they could touch her. If they could touch her they could hurt her. And like him, she could be killed, her body too injured for Wrath to repair it, especially considering the damage done to her during their separation—which she still hadn’t told him about.

Paris’s first casualty of the battle crumpled. One down. Only about a thousand more to go. “Can you fly to safety?” he asked, nailing another Hunter. There went number two.

She offered no reply. Fearing the worst, he swung his sword to take down any threat in front of her. Only, she had worked her way back in front of him. He spotted the back of her head, her wings tucked safely out of the way, and realized she was engaged in her own battle. Either she had allowed Wrath to overtake her or she had learned some new skills in the hour they’d been parted. He was betting on the former. Good.

Clasping only the crystal dagger, she danced through the crowd with lethal menace, her focus on Cronus and the men and women surrounding him. Hunters fell all around her. She spun, she ducked, she darted left and right. Her wings flared suddenly, and she lifted high, higher, cutting someone down below her.

A true angel of death. Paris had never seen anything so beautiful. He trailed behind her, and anyone who turned their sights on her, he killed savagely. No hesitation. No regrets.

A throwing star sliced his forearm. There was a sharp sting, a warm trickle of blood. Neither slowed him, and he didn’t bother checking for the culprit. There were so many people, so many bodies, so many wings and weapons.

The gods and goddesses wore bejeweled robes and hummed with electrical energy that lifted his hair. Some could shoot fire from their fingertips, some could shoot ice. Besides Cronus and Rhea, he’d never really had a beef with the Titans, but the angels, who were, miracle of miracles, on his side, didhave a beef, so… the enemy of my friend is my enemy.Anytime Paris spotted a Titan, he slew first and decided to ask questions later.

Why Titans versus angels, though? A turf thing, maybe? Like, the heavens belonged to the wingers and they weren’t going to tolerate encroachers anymore? Made sense, but even if the reason had been something as lame as “We don’t like the Titans, whaa, whaa, boo-hoo, they’re mean,” he’d be in this at full throttle.

A group of Hunters surged toward Sienna, claiming his complete focus and rage. They seemed to recognize her as one of their own. Or rather, a traitor to their kind. Their abhorrence was evident, as was their spotlighting of her, as though Rhea and Galen had placed her at the top of the must-kill list.

Moving faster than human eyes could track, Paris twisted and turned, arms always crossing, swinging, cutting. Grunts and groans sounded. Screams, too. Ahead, a Hunter aimed a .40. Even as he continued forward, Paris threw his crystal blade as if it were a deadly boomerang. And actually, it was. It changed shape midflight and sliced through the Hunter’s wrist before the shot could go off, taking both the hand and the gun, before hurtling back to Paris’s waiting grip.

Except, he’d missed the other Hunter with the other gun, currently aimed at Lucien. Paris went to throw the blade, but the shot boomed out, nailing Lucien in the side. Blood spurted. The warrior shouted, but didn’t go down. Kept fighting.

The other Lords closed ranks around him, protecting him. Good men. The best. They’d fought together a long time, in the heavens and on earth. They knew to stay close, to fight with their backs to each other and to draw tighter when an injury was sustained.

But Lucien gathered his strength and flashed himself directly behind the Hunter who’d harmed him. The man was dead before his body hit the ground.

“Look out,” Paris shouted as another Hunter came at his friend. His boots hammered at the ground as he raced to intervene.

Lucien ducked. The human’s dagger swiped nothing but air. And then Paris was on the guy, slamming into him, propelling him down, down. He punched once, heard bone crack, twice, feltbone crack, then finished him off with a swipe of his blade.

“Thanks,” Lucien said, helping him up.

“No prob.” He scanned the area, even as he threw himself into another fight. Shit.He’d lost sight of Sienna. Humans and immortals were still standing, weapons locked in battle. The injured had slinked off to the sidelines to protect themselves from further harm. Of course, warriors, being warriors, hunted them and took care of business.

Meanwhile, body parts were flying and blood was pooling. And was that a wing at his feet, white threaded with gold? Yeah. Damn. Poor angel.

Find Sienna.A command from his demon, his darkness and himself.

He barreled in the direction he’d last seen her, leaving a trail of death in his wake. This was why he’d been created, after all. To fight. To kill. He rolled with the violence, bending, straightening, darting as needed. Throwing punches, slicing through skin and into organs. He experienced several more stinging pains and trickles of blood, but still he kept going.

From the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Maddox fall. Then Reyes. And was that Sabin? They would be fine, he told himself. Like Lucien, they were strong. He would not believe otherwise.

A few feet ahead, Gideon was sliced through the stomach and bleeding like a sieve, fighting off two giants. Strider was…nowhere. Gone. But there were Kaia and Gwen, Haidee and Scarlet, hacking through enemy lines with grins on their faces.

My boys are fine or the girls wouldn’t be so happy,Paris assured himself. He quickened his steps and took one of the giants from behind, the decapitation allowing Gideon to center his efforts. There were just so many Hunters, so many immortals. If they could hurt his friends, then Sienna would be—

There! He caught a glimpse of those black wings. Blood dripped from their tips, and he wasn’t sure if it was hers or someone else’s. Urgency rode him, guiding him faster and faster. A war cry echoed as a male plowed toward her from the right. Paris noticed and launched himself at the man, catching him around the waist. They skidded across the floor. A swift twist of the guy’s neck, and that little battle was over.

Paris hopped to his feet and headed for his woman. She took down a big bruiser of a man with a swing of her dagger. Crimson stained her arms to the elbows. Her shirt was torn, her side bleeding.

The darkness inside him thickened.

Zacharel appeared in front of Sienna, cutting a clearer path for her and challenging the Titans who clashed with other angels in front of Cronus. Big shocker, Cronus was fighting, too. Rhea’s men had come from the other side, and were currently hacking at him as if he was a piñata and they wanted the candy inside him. And yet, they hadn’t managed to inflict a single injury on him. He was too strong, too fast. Too damn powerful.

Then those Hunters were down, and it was Cronus against Rhea, no one standing between them, the rest of the battle raging behind them. Both held two short swords, and both raced toward each other. Contact.Metal clanged against metal, even sparking.

“Bitch!”

“Bastard!”

“If your man kills me, you’ll die, too,” Cronus spat.

“Worth it,” the queen gritted.

All around, the humans and angels—and hell, even the Lords, because yeah, Paris felt it too—experienced an increase of fury. As if their emotions fed off the king’s and queen’s. Teeth were bared. Claws unleashed.

Paris had a strange thought that the entire world was probably shaking from this. Earthquakes, tornados, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, storms of any and all kind. What would he find when he returned there?

Head in the game.

Kill,he thought. He threw himself back into the fray. Dagger, swinging. Bodies, falling. Sienna, close by. Finally he reached her. Of course, that’s when Galen appeared. He was soaked in crimson, shaking with rage. And he swung a long broadsword at Sienna’s neck.

She hadn’t noticed, too busy finishing off another Hunter.

“No!” Paris leapt between the two combatants. Because he was taller than Sienna, the tip of Galen’s sword cut through his chest rather than his neck. Skin, muscle, bone, all three split. Warm blood poured as his knees buckled.

A high-pitched scream of unholy rage and denial nearly busted his eardrums. Sienna had noticed. He thought maybe his heart had taken some of the impact, too, because the organ skipped one beat, then another.

His vision fogged. Bodies became blurs of movement. Black—Sienna and her ire. White—Galen and his brute force. The two engaged, a whirlwind of motion and menace.

Come on, come on.Paris wasn’t going down like this.

He pushed to his feet, but was immediately tossed back down. Someone had barreled into him, was punching at his face. Got his lip but good, the tissue slicing on his teeth. Though Paris couldn’t see who it was, he suspected the culprit was human, and kicked out. The weight left him, and he got back on his feet.

The male came at him again. “I’ve always wanted the honor of killing one of your kind.”

Paris still held his dagger and swiped. Contact, gurgling. Another body joined the ever-growing pile.

Sienna…Sienna… There! Still fighting Galen. Her motions were slowing, and there were seemingly thousands of new streaks of red interspersed with the black of her broken wings. She was hurting, weakening. Eyes narrowing, homing in on his target, Paris kicked forward. More Hunters rushed him, but he kept his eye on the prize and hacked at whoever got in his way. Then it happened.