Текст книги "The Darkest Craving "
Автор книги: Gena Showalter
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
KANE AWOKE AS sunlight poured through the open curtains. He sat up with a jolt.
Morning.
He jumped out of bed, then cringed, hoping his abruptness hadn’t woken Tink. But she wasn’t in the bed, he realized. He quickly dressed and left the room. She was probably in the breakfast nook.
It was better this way, he thought. He’d already said goodbye the only way he could. If he were to see her now, he might change his mind. He might break down and cry. If he told her the truth—and she would insist on the truth, and he would give it because he was unable to deny her anything—she would try and stop him. He might let her. Anything for more time with her.
To avoid the guards and servants, he used the secret passageway to get to the garden, and why was his torso burning? He stopped long enough to look under his clothes, and blinked. The butterfly tattoo had faded significantly. Because the demon was dying?
In the warmth and light of the new day, he felt strangely calm and burden free, considering he was about to die. He felt...lighter.
When he turned the corner, he saw Malcolm and Tink standing several yards away. Shock stopped him in his tracks.
“—the ring, just like you wanted,” Tink said, placing something in the warrior’s hand.
Malcolm looked down at her. “As thrilled as I am to have it, my deal was with Kane.”
“And now it’s with me. I absorbed the demon and now carry him in mybody.”
The Sent One frowned. “You don’t look as if you carry the demon.”
“That’s because he’s too weak to cause any trouble.”
The conversation confused Kane. He fingered the ring on his—bare skin, he realized. The ring was gone.
Dread slithered through him.
“Without the demon, Kane is going to die, anyway,” Malcolm said. “Why should I help you achieve the same fate?”
“He’s going to... No! I won’t believe that.”
“Nevertheless, it’s true.”
“But...but....” She went still, as if she couldn’t even bare to breathe. “He never experienced the life he dreamed of...a life free of Disaster. He should know how it feels to be at peace before he dies, and I can give him that chance, even if only for a little while.”
“And you’re willing to give your life for that chance? Take a moment. Think about this. Once it’s done, it cannot be undone.”
“I have thought about it. I want to do it here, now.”
Malcolm nodded. “Very well. My bargain is now with you.” He held out his hand and a sword of fire appeared.
In that moment, a sickening realization dawned. Tink had taken the ring, and she’d taken the demon, and she now planned to take Kane’s place.
She was going to die in his stead, simply to give him a few days, maybe a few weeks, without the demon.
“No!” Kane screamed. “No! Don’t you dare!”
But it was too late.
Malcolm had already been in the process of striking. The fire pierced her chest, and her scream of pain shattered every corridor of his heart.
“No!” he cried. “No!”
The sword slid out of her and Kane saw a gap the size of his fist.
Tink collapsed. And Malcolm vanished.
Kane dropped to his knees and roared up at the sky.
* * *
IN A DAZE, when the shock of what he’d witnessed had worn off, but not the horror, never the horror, Kane crawled to his wife, gathered her in his arms and cradled her precious body against his chest. He held her for what seemed an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than an hour.
There was no blood on her or him. The sword had cauterized the wound, and it wasn’t right. He should be covered in her blood, should have tangible evidence of the pain she had endured. He should have to wear it, a constant reminder of the disaster he had allowed—even without the demon living inside him. He neededto see his shame. His grief. His failure. Something, anything, but this...nothingness.
Nothingness. Yes. That’s all he had now.
His wife, his love, was gone. For nothing! Didn’t she know he could not have peace without her?
Tears must have been brewing at the back of his eyes because they suddenly spouted out, like rivers of anguish. He sobbed like a baby, and he didn’t care who saw him. Guards and Opulens came up to him and tried to talk to him, to learn what had happened, but he snarled and sent them running away.
“How could you do this?” he demanded of Tink. But he already knew the answer, didn’t he. She’d loved his life more than her own. “How?”
He brushed his fingers through the softness of her hair—her blondhair? Yes. Blond. Even her features had changed. She looked like Petra, and he had a moment of hope, thinking Petra had died and not his wife. But then her hair and features changed again, and he found himself peering down at someone he didn’t recognize.
When she changed a third time, and the strange image remained for an hour, then another, realization hit him and all hope withered. This was Tink, the blonde in the painting, and she was dead.
She had drained the Phoenix, acquiring the girl’s ability to shift identities, that was all. Because, now that the shifting had stopped, whatever spark had tried to ignite had been extinguished.
His Tink was dead, and she wasn’t ever coming back.
He howled up at the sky.
He had his freedom now, but the price had been too high.
He wanted to lash out, to kill someone, destroy something, but he couldn’t bear to release his Tink. So he sat there, even as the sun disappeared behind clouds and rain poured. He sat there as day turned to night.
Malcolm appeared a few feet away, his skin pallid, his lips compressed into a hard line.
A growl rose in Kane’s throat.
“I know I’m the last person you wish to see right now, but I must tell you what I’ve learned. I...went to my leader, told him what I’d done. He has assured me you will survive the removal of your demon, just as the girl wished.”
Well, what do you know? Kane could release his wife, after all. He stood, his hands fisted. “I might survive, but you won’t.”
The Sent One raised his chin. “Hear me out, warrior.”
“How could you kill her? You are forbidden from taking human life, and she was half human.”
“The moment she accepted your demon, I stopped seeing her that way.”
“That doesn’t change your rules.”
“No, nor does it change my circumstances. I was going to be punished either way.”
Will...kill...
But the warrior wasn’t finished. “I was wrong when I told you that you would be emptied out. Your cup wasn’t spilled over. Water was poured inside, slowly displacing the oil. Now, you’re filled with the water...with love. I’m...sorry for your wife’s death.”
“Doesn’t matter now.” He withdrew two daggers.
The Sent One sighed. “You don’t want to fight me.”
“You’re right. I want to murder you.” He launched one of the daggers, aiming for Malcolm’s neck, but he vanished, and the weapon soared past him, embedding in a tree. Then, he reappeared.
Kane threw the other dagger, and the Sent One performed the same move.
He advanced. They’d settle this with their hands, then.
“Your woman.” Frowning, Malcolm tilted his head to the side as he looked beyond Kane’s shoulder. “She’s on fire.”
Kane spun, seeing flames dance at the end of her big toes. Once again, hope ignited as he realized what was happening. If she had retained Petra’s abilities, she could rise from her own ashes.
But what if Petra had been close to the final death?
He watched, desperate, as the flame spread to Tink’s other toes...to her ankles. Her knees. Her waist. Her shoulders...her head. Until she was engulfed.
She began to wither. A pile of ashes formed.
Then, nothing. The flames vanished.
Another hope destroyed.
Kane erupted.
He tore out hunks of earth. He kicked and punched trees. He—
Was blown backward by an intense wave of heat. He rolled to a stop and jumped to his feet. Beside him, Malcolm did the same. Another fire now raged, this one crackling over the ashes, lifting them, swirling them together.
Please,he thought. Please.
A female form came into view, floating in the center of the flames. Tink’s face took shape, then her hair, and body, and his heart nearly burst from his chest.
She opened her eyes, and the flames died in an instant. Her naked form fell to the ground, and she hmphed, losing her breath.
Breath. She had breath.
It had worked!
Kane dropped to his knees, the rush of relief too much for him.
She held up a trembling arm, twisted it in the light, then held up the other. “I’m really here.” Her eyes widened. “Kane, I’m really here!”
He lumbered to his feet, staggered over to her. He needed to touch her. Like, now. Emotion clogged his throat as he fell at her feet and gathered her in his arms. “I’ve never been so glad to watch someone catch fire,” he said, squeezing her tight. “You reformed, sweetheart. You reformed.”
“But only the Phoenix can do—” Realization dawned on her beautiful face. “The Phoenix! I took from her.”
“Yes.” A miracle of perfect timing. A choice...and a destiny.
“William must have killed her,” Malcolm said. “That’s the only way Josephina would have retained the ability. Which means, it hasn’t faded and it won’t. She’s no longer half human. She’s fully immortal, though it appears her ability is weaker than that of other Phoenix. They usually catch fire moments after the deathblow is struck.”
Kane had thought his tear ducts had dried, and yet, droplets rained down his cheeks. Tink. Fully immortal. His forever. “Thank you,” he said, the words for Tink, for Malcolm and his leader. “Thank you so much.”
Malcolm looked to the sky, paused and might even have smiled. “I have been told to tell you the baby reformed with his mother. Though he is only a few days old, he is specially gifted, and very strong.” After dropping that bombshell, he vanished.
A baby. A boy.
To know this soon...
Kane almost couldn’t process the news. Reverently his hand moved to his wife’s still-flat stomach.
Her eyes were wide and luminous. Then she laughed, joyous. “A baby, Kane.”
“Are you happy?”
“More than I ever thought possible. I always thought my gift and my circumstances were a blessing and a curse, but all along they’ve been a blessing, never a curse. I’m alive, and we’re going to have a baby, a baby that will be free—and you’re free, Kane. You’re free! The demon is dead. He’s no longer a part of you or me.”
He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, breathed her in. “What you did for me...I’ll never be able to repay you. The price you paid...the pain you just endured...” He shuddered. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again. I need you. You’re mine. We belong together.”
“Now and forever.”
He pulled back to peer into her eyes. The stitches had burned from her cheek and the swelling had gone down, but even still, a jagged six-inch line stretched over her skin. The hole in her chest had been filled, but there was a big, puckered scar.
“The injuries happened before you were fully immortal, so the evidence of them will never go away, I bet,” he said.
“Are they bad?” she asked, rubbing the scar on her chest.
“Bad? They’re amazing. Like you. Badges of courage—of your love for me.” He searched the rest of her, groaned. “We need to cover you up.” He tore off his shirt and tugged it over her head, concealing her bare breasts. He removed his pants and handed the material to her, leaving him in his underwear.
She smiled, a big happy smile. “The women are going to be drooling over you.”
“They can drool, but they can’t touch.”
“Because you’re mine,” she said, “just like I’m yours.”
“Forever,” he said.
“Forever,” she agreed.
A forever that would be very busy. “I want this kingdom at peace before our son arrives. I want Cameo and Viola found, and my debt to the Sent Ones paid. I’ll have to help them find the demons that killed their king.”
“Together, we can do anything.”
He kissed her, soft and sweet. “For now, I’m only interested in holding you, feeling your heart beat against mine, and proving you really are alive.”
“I think you want to remove my clothes,” she replied huskily.
He kissed her again, this time strong and sure. “Yes, but the removal of clothing is only step one.”
“And step two?”
“Come. I’ll show you.”
* * * * *
The Sent Ones keep heating up the skies as their adventure continues. Don’t miss BURNING DAWN, the next book in Gena Showalter’s captivating ANGELS OF THE DARK series, coming soon from Harlequin HQN!
Lords of the Underworld Glossary of Characters and Terms
Aeron—Lord of the Underworld; former keeper of Wrath
All-key—a spiritual relic capable of freeing the possessor from any lock
All-Seeing Eye—human with the power to see into heaven and hell, past and future; Danika Ford
Amun—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Secrets
Anya—(minor) goddess of Anarchy; beloved of Lucien
Ashlyn—human female with supernatural ability; wife of Maddox
Atropos—a Moirai
Baden—former Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Distrust (deceased)
Bianka Skyhawk—Harpy; sister of Kaia, Gwen and Taliyah; consort of Lysander
Black—one of the four shadow warriors; famine
Cage of Compulsion—artifact with the power to enslave anyone trapped inside
Cameo—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Misery
Cloak of Invisibility—artifact with the power to shield its wearer from prying eyes
Cronus—former ruler of the Titans
Danika Ford—human female; girlfriend of Reyes; known as the All-Seeing Eye
Deity—former king of the Sent Ones (deceased)
Ever—daughter of Maddox and Ashlyn
Fae—race of immortals that descends from Titans
Flashing—transporting oneself with just a thought
Galen—former second-in-command of the Hunters; keeper of Hope and Jealousy
Gideon—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Lies
Gilly—human female
Glorika Aisling—mother of Josephina
Gorgon—immortal creature able to turn any living being into stone
Greeks—former rulers of Olympus before Titans
Green—one of four shadow warriors; death
Gwen Skyhawk—Harpy; sister of Kaia, Bianka and Taliyah; wife and consort of Sabin
Haidee—former Hunter; Amun’s wife
Hunters—mortal enemies of the Lords of the Underworld
Josephina Aisling—half human, half Fae; aka Tinker Bell, Tinker Hell, Tink, Tinky Dink
Juliette—a Harpy
Kaia Skyhawk—part Harpy, part Phoenix; aka the Wing Shredder; sister of Gwen, Taliyah and Bianka; consort of Strider
Kane—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Disaster
Klotho—a Moirai
Lachesis—a Moirai
Lazarus—an immortal warrior; only son of Typhon and an unnamed gorgon
Legion—demon minion in a human body; adopted daughter of Aeron and Olivia
Leopold—only Fae prince
Lords of the Underworld—exiled immortal warriors now hosting the demons once locked inside Pandora’s box
Lucien—coleader of the Lords of the Underworld; keeper of Death
Lysander—elite Sent One
Maddox—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Violence
Malcolm—a Sent One; member of Zacharel’s army
Marigold—a female from the past
Moirai—three immortal witches who weave destiny; aka “The Three Fates,” “hobags”
Neeka—deaf Harpy; prisoner of the Phoenix
Never-ending—a portal into hell
Olivia—an angel; beloved of Aeron
Olympus—former city of the gods; now known as Titania
Opulens—the Fae upper class
Pandora’s Box—made of the bones from the goddess of Oppression; once housed demon high lords, now missing
Paring Rod—artifact with ability to rend soul from body
Paris—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Promiscuity
Penelope—queen of the Fae
Petra—female Phoenix
Phoenix—fire-thriving immortals descended from Greeks
Princess Fluffykans—Viola’s pet Tasmanian devil
Realm of Blood and Shadows—location of the Lords of the Underworld’s current fortress
Red—one of four shadow warriors; war
Reyes—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Pain
Sabin—coleader of the Lords of the Underworld; keeper of Doubt
Scarlet—keeper of Nightmares; wife of Gideon
Sent Ones—winged warriors that fight evil
Séduire—the realm of the Fae
Sienna Blackstone—ruler of the Titans; beloved of Paris
Strider—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Defeat
Synda—Fae princess; keeper of Irresponsibility
Taliyah Skyhawk—Harpy; sister of Bianka, Gwen and Kaia
Tartarus—an underground holding cell for immortals
Tiberius—king of the Fae
Titania—the city of the gods; formerly known as Olympus
Titans—rulers of Titania; children of fallen angels and humans
Torin—Lord of the Underworld; keeper of Disease
Typhon—an immortal creature with the head of a dragon and the body of a snake
Urban—son of Maddox and Ashlyn
Viola—minor goddess; keeper of Narcissism
White—one of four shadow warriors; conquest
William the Ever Randy—immortal warrior of questionable origins; aka the Panty Melter
Zacharel—elite Sent One; leader of the Army of Disgrace
Zeus—king of the Greeks
Keep reading for an excerpt from The Darkest Seduction by Gena Showalter!
If you loved The Darkest Craving,don’t miss these other pulse-pounding Lords of the Underworldtitles by New York Timesbestselling author Gena Showalter. Available now!
“The Darkest Fire” (prequel novella)
The Darkest Night
The Darkest Kiss
The Darkest Pleasure
“The Darkest Prison” (novella)
The Darkest Whisper
Heart of Darkness(includes “The Darkest Angel” novella)
The Darkest Passion
The Darkest Lie
The Darkest Secret
The Darkest Surrender
The Darkest Seduction
Looking for more scintillating paranormal romance? Download the spin-off series to Lords of the Underworld now!
Angels of the Dark:
Wicked Nights
Beauty Awakened
Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Subscribe to our newsletter: Harlequin.com/newsletters
Visit Harlequin.com
We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com
CHAPTER ONE
PARIS TOSSED BACK THREE fingers of Glenlivet and signaled the bartender. He wanted an entire hand and by right or might, he’d have it. Except soon after the single malt was poured, he realized an entire hand wasn’t going to cut it, either. Fury and frustration were living entities inside him, frothing and bubbling despite his recent fighting.
“Leave the bottle,” he said when the bartender made a move to help someone else. Hell, suddenly Paris doubted every drop of alcohol in a ten-mile radius would do the trick, but hey. Desperate times.
“Sure, sure. Anything you say.” Shirtless Boy Wonder released the bottle and beat feet.
What? He looked thatdangerous? Please. He’d washed off the blood, hadn’t he? Wait. Hadn’t he?He looked down. Shit. He hadn’t. Crimson streaked him from head to toe.
Whatever. He wasn’t in a human bar, so no “authorities” would have a beef with him. He was in Olympus, though the heavenly kingdom had recently been renamed Titania. Once only gods and goddesses had been allowed here, but when Cronus reclaimed the realm, he’d changed things, allowing vampires, fallen angels and other creatures of the dark to come and play. A nice little screw you to the previous king, Zeus.
Call the bartender back,Promiscuity said. I want him.
Promiscuity—the demon trapped inside him, driving him. Irritating him. Remember when I wanted fidelity? Monogamy?Paris replied in his mind. Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we?
A familiar growl sounded in his head.
Whaa, whaa, pout, pout.He downed the second alcoholic offering and quickly chased it with a third. Both scorched so good he enjoyed a fourth. The potent alcohol razed his chest, burned holes in his abdomen, and flooded his veins. Nice.
And yet, his emotions remained as dark as ever, the edges of that bone-deep fury and frustration unsmoothed. His inability to save a not-so-innocent woman he should hate– didhate, at least a little—but also hungered for, body and soul, drove him, a constant whip against his flank.
“If I asked you to leave, would you?” a monotone voice said from beside him. A voice accompanied by a blast of arctic air.
He didn’t have to look to know that Zacharel, warrior angel extraordinaire and infamous demon-assassin, had just joined him. They’d met not long ago, when the feathered axman had come to Buda to off Paris’s friend Amun. Had old Zach actually succeeded, two crystal blades would have been drilling into his spine at that very moment.
I want him,the demon said.
Screw you.
Finally. We’re on the same page.
Really hate you right now.
Once upon a time, the demon had spoken to Paris with annoying frequency. Then the stupid sex fiend had stopped, merely urging Paris to bed this person or that person, no matter their gender or Paris’s own feelings toward them. Now, the talking had started up again and it was worse than before, because he wanted everyone, especiallythe ones Paris felt no desire for.
“Well?” the angel prompted.
“Leave, when I had to beg Lucien to bring me here and I know he won’t be so accommodating next time? No, but I’d damn sure want to know why you gave a crap about my location.”
“I do not care about your location.”
True story. Zacharel didn’t care about anything, a fact you learned real fast in your dealings with him. “That’s my point, so get lost.”
As Paris nursed a fifth whiskey, he studied the smoke-stained mirror in front of him, covertly panning the area behind him. Bejeweled chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were rose-colored marble, veined with glittering ebony, the floor a sparkling stretch of crushed diamonds.
Throughout the room, men and women talked and laughed. From minor gods and goddesses to fallen angels trying to work their way back into their saintly fold. Good luck with that in a bar. Morons.Anyway. There was probably a demon or two sprinkled among the masses, but Paris couldn’t tell for sure.
Demons were as sneaky as they were evil. They could skulk around in their own scales, proudly showcasing their horns, claws, wings and tails—and getting decapitated by warrior angels like Zach. Or they could possess someone else’s body and skulk around in theirskin.
Paris had thousands of years of experience with the latter.
“I will leave, as you so succinctly suggested,” Zacharel said, “ afteryou answer another question for me.”
“All right.” Something else Paris knew from experience: angels were freakishly stubborn. Better to hear the guy out, otherwise he’d find himself with a new shadow. He turned, facing the dark-haired stunner with eyes the color of jade, and sucked in a breath. Never ceased to amaze him, how magnetic these celestial beings were. No matter their gender—or how mind-numbingly dull their personalities—they drew and held your attention, every damn time. For some reason, Zacharel did so with more intensity than most.
But the magnetism wasn’t what caught Paris’s attention this time. Majestic wings arced over the angel’s broad shoulders, a turbulent fall of winter clouds with streams of gold winding and curling throughout, snowflakes raining from the tips like glitter in a globe.
“You’re snowing.” Captain Obvious, that’s me.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I can answer you, or I can ask my question and leave.” Dressed in the long white robe that was customary for his kind, Zacharel should have looked innocent and prissy. Instead, he looked like the Grim Reaper’s evil twin: emotionless, as frigid as the snow he shed and ready to kill. “Your choice.”
No thought necessary. “Ask.”
“Do you wish to die?” Zacharel said it as simply as he’d said everything else, mist crystallizing in front of his mouth, creating a dreamlike haze and reminding Paris of the breath of life. Or death.
Definitely ready to kill, Paris mused. “What do you think?” he asked, because honestly? He didn’t know the answer anymore.
For centuries he’d fought to live, but now, now he constantly threw himself into the fire and waited to be burned. Likedbeing burned. What kind of sick prick had he become?
Unflinching, the angel held his gaze. “I think you want one particular woman more than you want anyone—or anything—else. Even death…even life.”
Paris pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. One woman in particular: the not-so-innocent one.
Her name was Sienna Blackstone. Once a Hunter and always his enemy, for Hunters were an irritating army of humans who hoped to rid the world of Pandora’s demons. Then fleetingly, she’d been his lover. Then dead, gone. Thenshe’d been brought back from the grave, her soul merged with the demon of Wrath. Now, she was out there. Somewhere. And she was suffering. Cronus had enslaved her, thinking to use her demon to punish his adversaries, and now that he’d lost control of her, he thought to torture her into submission.
Paris might dislike the things Sienna had done to him, and yeah, as he’d already admitted, part of him might even hate the woman herself, but even she did not deserve the cruel, vicious—eternal—punishment being meted out.
I will find her, and Iwill save her.From Cronus…from himself. Right now, Paris simply couldn’t get past the fact that she was suffering. Once that part of the equation was dealt with, he would stop thinking about her. He had to stop thinking about her.
“So I want her,” he ended up saying to the angel. Sienna was not up for discussion. “BFD.”
“I will pretend I know what that means.” Zacharel shook his wings, more of that pure, glistening snow raining down. “As for you, I think that, despite your own desires, your demon wants anything with a pulse.”
“Sometimes even a pulse isn’t a requirement,” he muttered, and damn if that wasn’t the truth. Sex, as he’d taken to calling his dark companion, wanted anyone and everyone—but only ever once. With the exception of Sienna, Sex would not allow Paris to harden for the same person twice.
Why could he have Sienna again? No damn clue. “But again, so?”
“I think, even though you crave this particular woman, you slept with your friend Strider’s future wife. He is the demon of Defeat, and your actions made his courtship of the Harpy very difficult.”
“Hey. You’re entering dangerous territory here.” Not that Paris had anything to apologize for.
The one-nighter had happened weeks before Strider and Kaia hooked up. Or had even thought about hooking up. Therefore, Paris had done nothing wrong. Technically. And yet, he now knew what Kaia looked like naked, and Strider knew that he knew, and that meant all three of them knew Sex tossed out naked images of the girl every time they were together. A consequence Paris loathed, but couldn’t stop.
Zacharel’s dark head tilted to the side in a reflective pose, all the more mysterious because of the mist that continued to form with his every exhalation. “I meant only to point out that you have clearly moved on to other conquests and that you are hardly discriminating in your choices, which makes me wonder why you still pursue your Sienna.”
Because Sienna had been Paris’s one and only shot at monogamy. Because he’d inadvertently brought about her death. Because he’d felt like he lost everythingwhen she died.
“You’re annoying,” he snapped. “And I’m done talking to you.”
Still the angel persisted. “I think you feel guilty about every heart you break, every dream of happily-ever-after you crush, and every bit of self-loathing you encourage when your partners realize how effortlessly you overcame their reservations. I also think you are overindulged and pathetic, and that you have no business crying about your problems.”
“Hey! I’ve never cried.” Paris slammed his glass on the counter with so much force the bar split down the center and the cup shattered. Blood welled from the slices in his palm, but the sting was minimal. “And you know what? I think you are seconds away from finding pieces of your body scattered in all the corners of this bar.”
Then, while he’s down, we can have him!
Zip it, Sex.
“Uh, here you go,” the bartender said, Johnny-on-the-spot with a clean rag he thrust in Paris’s direction. His arm shook. He was still afraid of Paris.
I want—
I said zip it!“Thanks, man.” Paris fisted the material, applying pressure to the slivers of torn tissue before anyone could scent him and the oh-so-special pheromones his demon excreted.
One whiff of the intoxicating aroma, and everyone around him would become unforgivably aroused, uncaring about where they were or who they were with. Mostly their hunger would be for Paris,and though that would have been an especially craptastic outcome tonight considering he was operating under a time crunch, he would have enjoyed rebuffing the males with his fists.
Except…the pheromones never enveloped him. He frowned. Sex wanted everyone he’d spotted tonight. Why not take advantage of his ability and force the patrons to want him back?
Paris returned his focus to Zacharel, wondering if the angel was somehow responsible.
Those eyes of the rarest jade narrowed to tiny slits. “I think you hope to save your Sienna, and that is a good thing. I think you mean to keep her, and that is not. No matter how intensely you crave her, no matter that she might be your only chance at forever, your demon will eventually ruin her, for humans were never meant to battle demons, and at heart, she is still a human.”
“What about her own demon?” he snapped.
“If one is bad, two is surely worse.”
“Enough!” If they continued on this path, his fury and frustration would rise up and consume him. He would lose sight of tonight’s goal. “I’m not going to keep her.” He would. He sowould if given a chance, and if she would have him, of course, but hell, she wouldn’t have him.
“Good. Because this particular woman would not like the man you have become.”
Snorting, Paris shoved his free hand through his hair. “She didn’t like who I was.” And now, after he’d irrevocably stepped over the line between right and wrong? Please.
He’d known his actions were reprehensible, and he’d stepped over anyway. He’d killed, callously. Seduced, methodically. Lied, cheated and betrayed. All of which he would do again and again.
“Yet you still rush to save her,” Zacharel said.
Yeah. He was as big a moron as the fallen who frequented this place. Whatever. He knew.Didn’t care. “Look, I don’t answer to you. I don’t have to explain myself. And what’s with all the questions? You said you only had one more.”
“I have asked only the one. The rest have been observations, and I have one more of those to offer.” Zacharel leaned into him and whispered, “I think, if you continue on this destructive path, you will lose everything you have come to love.”
