Prince of Stone (Imperia)

by Gena Showalter

  “He’s beautiful, though, isn’t he?” Sable asked.

  “He is.” Beautiful beyond imagining. But oh, the admission grated. Sunny did her best to ignore the flutter in her belly. “He looks like an incubus, ready to lure unsuspecting women into his bed.” Was he an incubus?

  Arrogance and sensuality clung to him like a second skin. On his wrists, a pair of leather cuffs. On his fingers, multiple spiked rings. Not just rings—weapons. But, so what? She had a weapon-ring, too: a tiny gun with brass pinfire rounds.

  He stood and switched seats with the women on his right, making him the meat in a flesh sandwich.

  Heart thudding, she dragged her gaze over his body. Mmm, mmm, mmm. For a moment, only a moment, lust overcame rage. Had she ever seen such a perfect example of raw, rugged sex appeal? Such a deliciously large muscle mass? A black shirt molded to his bulging biceps. In the center, the shirt read “Check Out The Cypher in My Pants.” He wore black leather pants and combat boots.

  When he threw back his head and laughed a second time, the rage returned. “After the terrible things he and his brother did to innocent people, he deserves misery.”

  “Agreed.”

  A trio of females sat at his table, one on one side, two on the other. All three hung on his every word. Sunny recognized two of the women. Screen names ‘Jaybird’ and ‘Cash.’ They were cryptanalysts, like her, and they would be presenting a workshop tomorrow.

  Jaybird continued to touch her lips to draw his gaze there. Cash leaned forward, putting her wealth of cleavage on display.

  “Duuude. They have the art of the flirt nailed, and I kind of want their autographs,” she said. Both Horror Show Sunny and Roses and Rainbows Sunny sucked at flirting. “I think it’s safe to say we found our first target.” She set her glass on a nearby table and led Sable into a shadowy spot beside a potted plant, so they could better study him.

  With movements as sexy as hellebore, he lifted a glass of whiskey.

  “—yeah, man,” the guy closest to her was saying to a group of his friends. “Sage.” Pause. “Sage!” He frowned. “Why can’t I say sage?”

  The humans surrounding him guffawed, as if he were teasing. One even elbowed him in the chest.

  Sunny’s magic prevented anyone from cursing in her presence, not that the affected ones ever understood why. On the flip side, her magic stopped people from speaking lies. Have to take the bad with the good.

  “How should we play this?” Trembling, she stuffed a flower petal in her mouth and—oh hellebore! She’d been eating leaves and petals, the potted plant almost bare. Oops. Bad Sunny! This wasn’t snack time. She dropped the remaining foliage and dusted the dirt from her fingers. Anyway.

  “I don’t think he’ll know who we are, otherwise Hades himself would have come. Last I heard, he hoped to recruit a creature like us to help him win his war with Lucifer. He doesn’t want us dead. He wants to use our magic.”

  “I don’t think he’ll know what we are either. Anyone I’ve interrogated about the royal families of the underworld, I’ve killed. That way, word about me and my inquiries has never spread.”

  “One of us should make contact,” Sable suggested.

  “Definitely.” Yes, but should they wait around and hope William approached them? What if he didn’t? Should they try to lure him over with a come-hither smile? He might not go for it. The women with him wore fancy dresses; as usual, Sunny and Sable wore an unadorned T-shirt and jeans, the perfect blend-in, forgettable outfit.

  Should one of them close the distance and make the first move?

  Yeah. That. It guaranteed contact.

  Her heart raced at the idea.

  “How about we draw straws?” Sable asked. “If you get the shorter one, you have to approach him. If I get the shorter one…you have to approach him.”

  Sunny snorted. “No need for straws. I’ll do it.” She would stroll over there and introduce herself. His reception would provide the first shard of truth, and her magic would prevent him from lying. She could invite him to her hotel room for a night of debauchery…and strike. “You can wait in our honeytrap room. Once I get him inside, we’ll interrogate and kill him.” Anticipation fizzed in her veins.

  “Perfect! You just need one little tweak.” Sable reached out to unwind Sunny’s braid. The long waves tumbled down her back. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a trim. But, even if she shaved her head, the thick azure mass would grow back in a matter of hours. “All right, you’ve got this. You’re irresistible and all that crap.”

  Another snort. “Here goes nothing.”

  Sable raced off in one direction, heading for the lobby, and Sunny raised her chin, squared her shoulders, and straightened her spine. Perspiration wet her palms as she stepped from the shadows. Like all of her kind, she walked silently, her footsteps inaudible.

  “—like a computer,” a guy at the table just ahead was saying. He had a familiar voice. “I’m serious. She can break a code with only a glance. Any code. It’s shocking to witness. She’s—dude, she’s right there!” The speaker pointed at her and waved. “Sunny! Sunny Lane. Hi. I’m Harry. Harry Shorts. Can I buy you a drink?”

  Multiple gazes slid her way, including William’s. His gaze hit her like a crowbar to the solar plexus. She lost her breath, her heart knocking against her ribs. Her legs shook, and she stutter-stepped, then froze, only halfway to his table.

  Sage! Finding a target sexy was one thing. Being aroused by a target was another thing entirely and completely unacceptable. He must exude some kind of lust dust.

  Seconds passed, but he didn’t look away, as if he were…dare she hope…entranced? He even angled his body toward hers to better peruse her from head to toe. Another hit to the solar plexus. This time, her blood heated, every cell an ember.

  Then, he returned his focus to his companions, dismissing Sunny.

  She ran her tongue over her teeth. When her heart calmed and her blood cooled, the synapses in her brain began firing again, and she realized there’d been no flicker of recognition in his expression, no surprise or satisfaction. Maybe, as she’d suspected from the start, he didn’t know who she was or what she planned. Or maybe he was playing hard to get, just to lure her closer.

  Only one way to find out…

  Determined, she glided forward once again and considered her options. Highlight the tender, tranquil side of her nature, or the killer as bloodthirsty as a harpy, as strong as a vampire, and as magical as a witch?

  Finally, she reached her destination, and oh, wow. He wielded magic, too. Her eyes widened. He wielded a lot of magic. Ancient, dark, and powerful. The air around him vibrated with it, making her skin tingle.

  The women ignored her, too wrapped up in William to notice or care. William, though, was not so wrapped up in them. He stiffened ever so slightly. She fought a smile. His awareness of her hadn’t dulled in the slightest, he was just doing everything possible to hide it.

  Too bad, so sad. Deep breath in, out. Mistake! His scent… She closed her eyes and savored, her mouth-watering. He smelled like angel food cake laced with crack.

  Calm. Steady. No need to act like an uncouth wolf-shifter.

  “—my best thinking naked,” he was saying to Jaybird and Cash. “You?”

  Let’s do this. “Hi. Hello. Hey,” Sunny said, rapping her knuckles against the table. Ugh! Blowing this already.

  Languid but self-assured, William canted his head in her direction. He made a real event of it too, as if premiering a blockbuster movie. Why bother going to so much trou—ohhh. That’s why. Up close and personal, his eyes weren’t just bejeweled; they were a real showstopper, sparkling with arousal, glinting with a sheen of icy rage, and glittering with steely determination.

  Electrical currents zapped her nerve endings. Ignore the pleasure. Forge ahead. She pasted on her best “come hither” smile and waved.

  A wave? Seriously? Get it together, Sun. Remember what he and his family did to you and yours.

  As she shifted he
r weight from one foot to the other, he looked her over sloooowly, starting at the bottom and working his way up—singeing her from the bottom up. He reached the apex of her thighs and her chest tightened. Shivers rocked her.

  No, no. I will not react. He will not affect me.

  His gaze continued moving up, still singeing her…

  When he reached her pasted-on smile, he projected amusement. But, but…why?

  Voice husky and low, he asked, “How may I service you, pet?”

  Pet? Pet! Her hands curled into fists. “In ways you never imagined, handsome,” she replied, careful to moderate her tone. She glanced at Jaybird, then Cash. They had to go. Letting her savage, violent side glaze her eyes, she snapped, “Get lost.”

  “You fall off the face of the earth for years,” Jaybird groused, “then come back meaner than ever? That’s just great!” With a huff, she stood and flounced off. Cash and the third female followed.

  Here’s hoping Willy-boy is just as easy to manipulate. “Hello.” Ugh. Not this again. “I’m Sunday Lane. Sunny to my friends. My turn-ons include kindness and responsibility. I look twenty-five, but I’m older. Promise!” Nearly eight thousand years old.

  A flash of intrigue, there and gone. “I’m William…King. Lovers call me the Panty Melter. Everyone else calls me the Ever Randy. My turn-ons are living and breathing. I’m older than twenty-five, as well.”

  Mmm. His voice had grown huskier, like audible sex. If women were “sex kittens,” this man was a “sex panther.” Meow.

  A wave of desire crashed into her sea of hatred. To combat the arousal, she reminded herself of his crimes. Long ago, Lucifer and his horde of demons rode into her village. They raped, pillaged, and utterly slaughtered her people. Men, women, and children. Their screams… Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she still heard their screams.

  Her family, brutally murdered.

  Her few friends, torn to shreds.

  The only home she’d ever known, razed.

  In only a handful of hours, the entire scope of her life changed.

  There’d been six survivors, Sunny included. No one remembered seeing William, only Lucifer, but Willy must have been involved. He must have. Why else would Lucifer’s war cry be, “For William?”

  Perhaps the Ever Randy had done the planning. Perhaps he’d hidden behind a mask. Either way, Sunny lost everything, even the survivors, because they’d agreed to split up and better the odds of hiding their origins.

  She and Sable were together now only because Sunny reached out to ask for assistance.

  Fingers snapped in front of her face, yanking her back to the present. She was panting, her limbs ice cold. William watched her with a frown.

  She re-pasted the smile and forged ahead. “Ever Randy, hmm? Does anyone call you ER for short?”

  “Only if they wish to die,” he replied, his tone dry. Despite the dryness, he thrummed with tension. Did her nearness rattle him?

  “So, he’s cute and ferocious. Good job, Sunny.” She patted herself on the shoulder, playing her role. “I picked the best slab of beef in the deli.”

  He arched a brow. “So, I’m a piece of meat to you?”

  “Yes, pork chop. Yes.” She reached over to pat his cheek, the urge to slap him almost impossible to ignore. Almost. “You should come with a warning label. Or eyeball condoms.”

  “Why? Do you plan to stuff your eyes inside my sockets?”

  “Maybe?”

  “Sorry, but I think I’ll pass.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his shirt pulling taut over deliciously flexed muscles. “No, you know what? I’m feeling daring today. Let’s go for it. Gotta try everything once, right?”

  A laugh burst from her, only to end abruptly. A prince of darkness would not amuse her, and that was that. “Sorry not sorry I sent your companions away. When I want something, I go for it.” Truth!

  He winged up one brow. “And you decided you want me?”

  His tone…she thought she detected a hint of certainty and uncertainty. How odd. “I spent five whole minutes planning your seduction. That’s five minutes longer than usual.” Another truth.

  “Five whole minutes? That means you’re only twenty-four hours behind me.”

  A joke…or a statement of fact? Did he just admit to attending the conference to find her?

  So. I was wrong. He knew who she was, or at least suspected, and he’d come to stop her—forever. Rage flared anew, but so did lust. The two scorched every inch of her. Soon, the rage would be appeased…

  She forced another smile. So far, William hadn’t invited her to join him at the table, much less issued a desire to leave the bar with her. Time to take their banter to the next level and give him an excuse to act. “If you were a pizza topping, you’d be hamburger and jalapeno, because you’re grade A beef and hot. I’d be ham and pineapple because I’m salty and sweet.” No. No way I just compared us to pizza toppings like a Facebook quiz.

  Okay, so, she didn’t just suck at flirting. She sucked, period. But wait! He smiled a genuine smile, as if she’d truly amused him, and her belly quivered. Then he jerked as if she’d punched him, the smile vanishing. He tossed back the remains of his drink, his movements powerful, aggressive, and seductive, making her belly quiver a thousand times harder.

  As he slammed down the glass, a blank mask descended over his features. “You may go.” He blanked his tone, too. “We’ll chat again later, when it’s your turn.”

  Her turn for what? Interrogation? Maybe he suspected every female code breaker of being the one hunting his family. And leave him? Hardly. Now, having breathed in his magnificent scent, experienced the of seduction of his voice and beheld the lethal seduction in his gaze, she wanted him dead sooner rather than later. Dangerous.

  There had to be a way to move to the top of his suspect list. Oh! Oh! She’d convince him to take a break. “Your loss, baby. I’m super horny.” Horny to end his life! “I’m probably dying and only an orgasm will save me. I’d planned to invite you to my room for a couple hours of thought and reflection.” She leaned closer, as if she had a secret to impart, and whispered, “I heard you say you do your best thinking naked.”

  His pupils enlarged, spilling over all that baby blue. A sign of sexual yearning. But he didn’t null and void his demand.

  Daisy! She had one last ace to play. If he still turned her down, she’d hide out, then follow him to his hotel room. “Fine, I’ll go. Thankfully, you aren’t the only slice of beefcake on the menu. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Mr. King. I know I will.” She blew him a kiss and pivoted, revealing her best feature: a rounded aster. Argh! A rounded ass-ter. Freesia! Stupid magic filter. She had a freaking rounded butt, okay?

  He sucked in a breath. “Or stay for a few minutes,” he croaked.

  Relief washed over her, cool and soothing. As hoped, her butt had succeeded where her wit had failed.

  Tremors plagued Sunny as she eased into the chair across from him. He watched her every move while tracing a finger around the rim of his glass. His intensity drew goose bumps to the surface of her heated skin. Ignore the tingle of awareness. Ignore the crackle of need. Ignore the sizzle of want.

  Without looking away, he raised an arm and snapped his fingers. A waitress came running, offering him a fresh glass of whisky. One he polished off in seconds.

  She said, “What shall we—”

  He slammed the glass onto the table, silencing her. Then he stood and extended a helping hand. “I’d already selected the night’s entertainment, and I never rearrange my plans. On the other hand, I’m a giver, incredibly generous, and your life hangs in the balance. So, I will do this for you.” He waved his fingers at her. “Come. Let’s go to my room.”

  “My room,” she insisted, smiling again.

  Silence. One beat, two. Then, he said, “Very well. Your room. I’ll ensure you survive the night.”

  * * * * *

  Need to know what happens next? Order your copy of The Darkest King, avail
able wherever HQN books are sold!

  Copyright © 2020 by Gena Showalter

  ISBN-13: 978-1-488-05726-7

  Prince of Stone

  First published as The Stone Prince in 2004. This edition published in 2020 with revised text.

  Copyright © 2004 by Gena Showalter

  Copyright © 2020 by Gena Showalter, revised text edition

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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