The Darkest Seduction lotu-10

by Gena Showalter

  “Do not be a fool!”

  Legion glanced behind him. The greenish tint returned to her skin, and damn if she didn’t look ready to scream.

  “Eyes on me,” he snapped, and she immediately submitted. Such lovely eyes. Rich and dark and boundless, even with their cascade of tears. “Do not look away from me.”

  A tremor in response.

  He backed up until he stood beside Ashlyn, then twisted and bent, sliding his arms underneath her, picking her up. She was heavy, her muscles knotted from strain. Legion maintained the connection between them.

  The Unspoken Ones demanded to know what he thought he was doing. He ignored them, carrying the girl to Legion’s side.

  “We gave you the Cloak, Hope. You owe us the females.”

  Had they meant to keep the humans as their due, then? He laughed with just a bit of humor. Probably. Something he would have done, as well, so he couldn’t really blame them.

  Wait. Yes, he decided. He could.

  “Should you betray us now, we will hunt you. We will destroy you in the old way.” The female let loose a cackling laugh. “Do you have any idea of the awfulness that entails?”

  He ignored her, saying to Legion, “Vow to me here and now that you will not try to escape me, that you will go with me willingly and do everything I tell you, when I tell you to do it. A blood vow.” One she would not be able to break, even if she wanted to.

  For immortals, keeping blood vows became a compulsion.

  Another tremor shook her. Those liquid eyes with their spiky lashes roved over him, causing his cock to fill and harden. He would have her. Tonight. “I w-will, but only if you vow to give Ashlyn and the babies back to Maddox, without hurting her. Or them. Today. And without fighting the Lords.”

  The girl had learned to bargain, to cover all the bases. A complication, but not anything that would stand in his way.

  Galen placed the still panting, pregnant female on the ground as gently as he was able. She was in too much pain to notice or speak. As he straightened, he removed one of his daggers.

  Legion shrank away.

  That fear would have to be dealt with. He wanted his firecracker back. The one who had seduced him at the bar, screwed him in the bathroom. Bitten and poisoned him before he could finish.

  Speaking of, she owed him an orgasm. And so many weeks had passed, she now owed him more than one. Interest was a bitch. But first, ensuring her cooperation. “In exchange for what I have asked you to promise, I vow to you here and now, this day, that I will give the female Ashlyn and her offspring back to her male Maddox, and I will hurt none of them. I will fight not with his friends, but give her and the babes over, unharmed by my hand or any other, and go on my way.” He pressed the tip of the blade into his palm and cut so deeply he hit bone.

  Blood welled. He smeared crimson on both sides of the blade, making sure to saturate the tip. Then he offered the weapon to Legion, hilt first. Part of him expected her to take it and slash at him, but no. She knew she was beaten, merely watched him, undecided about her next move. Cooperation was her only option. Unlike Lucien, she did not have the power to flash others alongside her, so she couldn’t spirit Ashlyn to safety.

  “Hurry.” Any moment now, the Lords would arrive and it would be too late to walk away with what he wanted. He couldn’t fight the Lords and watch Legion. And he couldn’t run with her, avoiding battle, because she could flash away from him any time she wished. He needed her vow. “Before I change my mind.” As if he would ever change his mind.

  With a trembling hand, she accepted the blade. Nervously she licked her lips.

  He waited, on edge.

  Finally, he heard the words he craved. “In exchange for what you have already promised, I vow to you here and now, this day, to willingly accompany you to wherever you wish.” Those glitter-ripe tears continued to rain down her cheeks. “I will do w-whatever you ask. And stay as l-long as you demand my presence.”

  She pressed the blade’s tip into her palm and cut. Not as deeply as he had, but enough to ensure a successful exchange. Her blood welled, mingling with the droplets he’d left behind. He liked that, liked knowing some part of him was now inside her.

  He reached out, clasped her hand against his, her wound against his. At the moment of contact, he felt a pop inside him, a tear on his soul, and though he’d never done anything like this before, he knew the vow had just made a place for itself inside him. Judging by her grimace, hers had just done the same.

  At last, she belonged to him.

  Legion flinched.

  Had he said the words aloud? Or perhaps she, too, had snapped back to reality as the Unspoken Ones hissed and cursed and threatened behind him. Galen cupped her cheek with his uninjured hand, his thumb caressing the rise of satin-covered bone. She trembled, but didn’t pull away.

  He rattled off the coordinates to his home. “Leave now, make no other stops, talk to no one, and I will give the girl and her babies to her man as promised.” And the Unspoken Ones could not stop her as they could the Lords. Well, all the Lords save the ever-annoying Lucien. “Hurry, I am almost too late.”

  She gulped, jerked from his clasp. He mourned the loss. Wanted to roar as she vanished before his eyes. She goes to your home. You will be with her again.

  He had only to take care of two tasks. Ashlyn, and the Unspoken. They could lure anyone, him included, with their gazes, cast illusions and hypnotize. And they liked to do so; they also liked to play with their prey. Something they didn’t need a willing spirit to do.

  He knew, because he’d fed them some of his own men. The ones he’d disliked, the ones who hurt the innocent. Ironic, yes, considering all the things he himself had done, but also another of his very good deeds. He did them upon occasion, if for no other reason than to amuse himself.

  Soon the Lords would be too close for him to divert. As promised, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, fight them, but the Unspoken Ones could. If he allowed that to happen, the Unspoken would forgive him for his unwillingness to share the females. Except, Ashlyn could be hurt during the battle, which meant Galen could not allow it. Soooo, he couldn’t take care of the Lords or the Unspoken this day. Both would have to be dealt with later.

  Keeping his gaze trained on the ground, he approached the pillars. Heard chains rattle. Stealthily he dug the Cloak from his back pocket and unfolded the material. The creatures tracked him, even as they hissed at him; he felt the heat of their gazes.

  Acting quickly, he flared his wings and the Cloak at the same time. His feet lifted off the ground, and he spun…spun…letting invisibility overtake him as the razor-sharp edges of his wings sliced into the Unspoken closest to him while the Cloak extended like a tentacle and wrapped around the neck of the farthest, crushing his windpipe.

  The first lost his insides, and hunched over with a howl of pain. The second couldn’t breathe and collapsed, unconscious.

  Galen was on the next two a split second later, a tsunami of movement, twisting, diving, cutting and doing a little more of that crushing. They couldn’t see him, couldn’t fight him, and oh, he had fun.

  Less than a minute after his initial attack, all five were on the ground. The Cloak sagged in Galen’s grip as he planted his feet on the ground, his body coming back into view.

  “Shouldn’t have taught me how to use the Cloak properly,” he tsked.

  He bent down and scooped Ashlyn into his arms. Sweat soaked her, her cheeks were puffed from the strain, and she clutched her stomach as she wheezed. Without the Cloak, he couldn’t flash her, and with it, her man would not sense her. That left Galen with only one option. He stalked away from the temple without any explanation. Tree branches reached out, slapping at him. Twigs snapped under his boots.

  “You. Will. Die,” he heard one of the injured choke.

  “That is our vow to you,” another panted.

  “Your screams will echo into eternity.”

  Ignoring them, again, he picked up his pace. After this, they might opt to a
id the Lords. No matter, though. They were stuck here, so what could they really do to him, even with immortal help?

  “Cry out for your man, Ashlyn.”

  That fall of honey hair remained plastered to her scalp as she shook her head wildly. A moment passed. She cringed and covered her ears with her hands, an action he understood. Wherever she stood, she could hear every conversation that had taken place there.

  Using the arm wrapped under her shoulders, he angled his wrist to tug one of her hands away. “You heard my vow to Legion. I cannot hurt you or your man today. Call for him. Bring him to you.”

  Perhaps she meant to deny him a second time, but she opened her mouth and a scream of pain was unleashed. Birds flew from the tops of trees. Insects ceased midsong. Animals of the four-legged variety raced for cover.

  He could have set her down and left her there, but he didn’t. Whatever the Lords had planned to do to him, they changed their minds when they heard that scream and came running. He heard the thunder of their footsteps and ground to a halt, waiting. A few seconds later, they ruptured the thick green foliage, becoming a half circle of menace around him.

  They were closer than I realized, he thought. Interesting. They might have won this round, after all.

  Maddox cared not for his own safety. “Give her to me.” He sprinted the rest of the distance, and with a tenderness belying his savage expression, he took his woman into his arms. “Oh, my love. I am so sorry. So sorry.”

  Another pang ripped through Galen’s chest.

  She moaned. “Hurts.”

  “I know, darling, I know. Lucien,” the warrior growled as his narrowed gaze landed on Galen. “Flash her out of here. Now. She’s in labor.”

  “Maddox,” she panted. “Don’t want…to leave…you.”

  “Shh, love. Shh. We’ll get you help. Let Lucien take you. Then he’ll come back for me. He can’t take the two of us at once, but I’ll only be moments behind you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “If something happens and I can’t get back to you—” Lucien began.

  “What?” Ashlyn screeched. “Why wouldn’t you be able to get back?”

  Maddox gave the scarred warrior a hard look.

  “Remember what Danika said to us.” Lucien gently took the still protesting Ashlyn from Maddox’s arms. “We won’t be at the fortress.”

  Maddox maintained contact for as long as possible. When the keeper of Death and the pregnant female disappeared, he straightened to his full height and once again met Galen’s stare.

  Galen wasn’t sure why he stayed, even then. Each warrior had weapons, and all of those weapons were trained on him. Guns, blades, a crossbow. His own daughter, Gwen, was the holder of the bow, an arrow notched and at the ready.

  Ah, now he knew why he’d stayed. Deep down he’d known she would come, and he’d wanted her to see what he’d done. See one of his rare good deeds. And maybe…maybe even decide to like him.

  “Why did you give her back?” Maddox demanded. Despite the fact that his woman had been returned healthy and whole, he reeked of rage.

  “Why else? I now have what I wanted from you.”

  The warrior’s brows lowered, surprise a slash of crimson in his eyes. “You have Legion?”

  So. They hadn’t brought her. She had come to him on her own. Another interesting tidbit—and enough to ripen every thread of possessiveness inside him. “She is mine, yes.”

  “How?”

  He grinned slowly with glee. “How do you think?”

  A flash of bone and scales under Maddox’s face, his demon rising to the surface. “There’s something you should know about Legion.”

  “And that is?” He knew what would happen next, knew exactly what the warriors planned to do. Knew it would hurt like a son of a bitch. He could have covered himself with the Cloak, could have flashed away. Instead, he stood there, his grin widening.

  “You’re not going back to her.” Maddox raised a Glock, as Galen had known he would, and fired, nailing Galen in the chest.

  On the heels of the bullet, blades sliced into his stomach, an arrow right into his heart. He met his daughter’s gaze as he fell to his knees, reached back and at last grabbed the Cloak. “Now we’re even,” he told her, voice faint as he shielded himself from view.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  WILLIAM WATCHED AS PARIS was carted closer and closer to him by those horny, humping gargoyle fiends, amused as ever-loving hell. In fact, he nearly busted a gut laughing. Yeah, he knew taunting the new and improved Paris 2.0 was borderline idiotic, and that the warrior would come gunning for him in the next few minutes, but like William could really pretend to be sad about this, so, bring it.

  “Dude,” he said. “You’ve already got several money shots wetting your chest. Classic!”

  Sex didn’t say a word. Just gave William the finger and held steady, emotion seething in his eyes. Emotion in the form of badass shadows, yeah, but that failed to lessen William’s amusement.

  Paris was clearly planning to murder someone other than William before the day finished ticking out, because, also clearly, more was going on here than simple humiliation. And William suspected that someone would be…the suspiciously missing Sienna? Nah. She was already dead. Zacharel? Had that pisser come back for more? William really hoped so. Hoped Paris gave it to the winger but good.

  William didn’t have a good history with the sky-bound, and though they didn’t seem to recognize his too lovely mask of a face, they’d jump him like a pack of rabid dogs if he revealed his true form.

  Not that he ever would. Anyways. It was best not to go there, even mentally. Mind readers abounded in this realm.

  Just as Paris disappeared around the corner, a grave and desperate Lucien materialized right in front of William, a screaming, panting Ashlyn clutched in his arms.

  The words exiting her bleeding lips were things only back-alley whores and junkies in need of a fix would say. And maybe Lucifer, the self-proclaimed king of the underworld.

  “Bad day?” Never had William heard the gentle beauty utter such filthy, vile things. And really, she’d never looked prettier to him. Rock on.

  “Danika told us she needed to have the babies wherever you were shacking up,” the keeper of Death said without preamble. Lines of tension branched from his eyes like little rivers of poison. “Following your spirit trail was not easy or fun, especially since my warriors have need of me. Show me to a bed now.”

  “Are you sure she said where I am?” William thumped his chest just to be sure.

  “Bed. Now.”

  “Now!” Ashlyn yelled. “They’re coming now. Please, please. Or I’m going to tell Maddox you tried to feel me up!”

  “So cruel. He vowed to remove the best part of my anatomy if I so much as breathed in your direction.” Despite his cavalier tone, William moved quickly as he led the pair up the stairs, down the hall and into the bedroom he’d cleaned for himself, intending to free the trapped female immortal and spend a few days getting to know her body in every twisted position he favored. So far, no luck.

  Lucien laid Ashlyn down, careful, so careful. “I’ll get Maddox now.”

  “Thank you. Ohhhhhhh, Gooooood.” She squeezed Lucien’s hand, and William heard the bones crack. When she came down from the pain an eternity later, she released the now-pale warrior. “Maddox. Now. Or I’m going to rip your face off and…and… Ohhhhhh!” The last was an evil screech better suited to a banshee from hell’s darkest corridors.

  “And tell Maddox he felt you up with it?” William said, always willing to help out.

  “I’ll be back in just a few. Take care of her.” Lucien disappeared, his “or else” unsaid but no less evident.

  “Well, hell,” William breathed, scrubbing a hand down his face. Alone with the pregnant Bride of Chucky, as well as the Seed of Chucky. And he was supposed to do some good? Yeah. That was so not happening. Best he could do was stay right where he was and not vomit blood.r />
  One by one, Lucien flashed the other warriors inside. Maddox first, then the others, then the women, then the two godly artifacts they had in their possession. Was the Budapest fortress under attack or something? Because damn.

  Since no one touched the drawbridge, the gargoyles never came for them, so they were free to mill about—aka run like hell away from DEFCON Five.

  And still, hours later, Ashlyn was in labor. The worst kind, at that. The babies wanted out, needed out, but they were stuck, and no one here was a stupid doctor, so no one knew what the hell to do to help her.

  Maddox was barely holding himself together as he paced, shouting, punching walls. The others had stopped exploring and now congregated in the hall outside Ashlyn’s room, pacing alongside him. Except for Danika, the brave soul who’d taken over as labor coach. She was inside the belly of the beast. Wait. She was peeking out the door.

  “Get over here,” the blonde screeched at William.

  He was surprised he heard her. After Ashlyn’s last round of curses, his ears were still leaking blood and brain matter. He’d taken up residence against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, and was all about warding away intruders into his personal space. “Who, me?” Again he found himself thumping his chest.

  “Yes. You. Standing around wasn’t part of your job description when I told the guys Ashlyn would need you for this.”

  Smart-ass. “News flash, little Dani. I know nothing about human births.” Still, he entered the room and approached the bed. Sweat soaked both women from head to toe, and both were pale, trembling. Scared, too, judging from the size of their pupils.

  “But you do know about demon births, don’t you?”

  Sometimes he forgot that Danika was the current All-Seeing Eye, that she could peer into heaven and hell, past and present. And he’d also forgotten Maddox was half human, half demon, and one quarter asshole, capable of spawning demonic offspring with special needs.

  “Okay, yeah. I’ll take over.” And he knew what to do now, which was a relief. For him. Ashlyn was about to experience the worst pain of her life. Pain she would beg to escape—even at the hilt of a sword.