The Darkest Passion lotu-6

by Gena Showalter

  Oh, yes. She knew him. Hence the whimpers. He was Lucifer, brother to Hades and the prince of most demons. He was evil. True, undiluted evil.

  Sweet child, he’d called her. Ha! He would stab her in the back the moment she turned away from him and laugh while doing so. Just for “funsies,” as Anya would say. She swallowed.

  “Well?” He snapped his fingers and in the next instant, they both stood in the center of his throne room. Rather than stone and mortar, the walls of Lucifer’s palace were composed of crackling flames. “It’s a simple question. Do. You. Know. Me?”

  “I—I do. Yesss.” Legion had been here only twice before, but the first time, during her birth into this realm, had been enough to convince her that she never wanted to return. The second time, she was brought here for punishment. Punishment she’d earned for refusing to torture a human soul.

  “Concentrate,” Lucifer snapped.

  She blinked and forced herself to focus. Plumes of black smoke wafted from the floor, the walls, even the throne atop the dais, curling around her like fingers of the damned. There were screams trapped inside those plumes, and those screams taunted her.

  So ugly, they said.

  So stupid.

  So unnecessary.

  Unwanted. Undesired.

  “I asked you another question, Legion. You will answer.”

  Though she wanted to look anywhere but at him, she forced her gaze to meet his. Lucifer was tall, with shiny black hair and orange-gold eyes. He was muscled, like Aeron, and handsome—but not as handsome as Aeron—despite the inferno always banked in his expression.

  What had he asked? Oh, yeah. What was wrong with her? “I—” What should she tell him? A lie, definitely, but something he would believe. “I jussst wanted to play a game.”

  “A game, hmm?” His lips curled slowly, wickedly as he strolled around her, closing in, studying, taking her measure and clearly finding her lacking. “I have a better idea.”

  The heat of his breath somehow reached the back of her neck, and she shuddered. At least he didn’t stab her as she’d feared. “Yesss?”

  “We shall bargain, you and I.”

  Her stomach twisted into cutting knots. His bargains were notorious, for they always ended in his favor. That’s how he’d escaped hell for a year to live unfettered on Earth. He’d bargained with the goddess of Oppression, the very one responsible for ensuring the walls surrounding this underground prison were solid, impenetrable. The one who had allowed many demon High Lords to escape. The one who had then died, her bones used to construct Pandora’s box.

  “No?” she said, and though she’d meant it as a statement, it emerged as a question.

  In front of her once again, he tsked. “Don’t be so hasty. You haven’t even heard what I have to offer.”

  It wouldn’t be good for her, that much she could guess. “I—I ssshould go.”

  “Not yet.” He spun on his heel and glided to his throne, where he eased down, relaxed, utterly sure of himself. Smoke reached him, surrounded him, and flames soon followed, dancing around as if happy just to be near him.

  Legion tried to shift from one foot to the other—only to realize her feet had been glued in place. There would be no leaving. Not until he was done with her. Still. She didn’t panic. She’d been beaten before and had survived. She’d been called terrible names and laughed at; she’d been thrown into seemingly never-ending pits and kicked into ice fields, unable to transport herself somewhere else.

  “I can help you get something you want,” Lucifer said. “Something you’ll do anything to possess.”

  Ha! There was nothing he could offer that would—

  “I can help you win Aeron’s heart.”

  For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Only when her lungs and throat began burning, scalding, did she force her mouth to open and suck air inside. He could…what?

  “As you like to spy on the happenings here for the Lords of the Underworld—” there at the end, bitterness had filled his tone “—I like to spy on the happenings of the surface. I know you’re enamored of Aeron, keeper of my darling Wrath.”

  Hearing his derision, she raised her chin. “He lovesss me, too. He told me ssso.”

  Lucifer arched a brow. “Are you sure about that? He was so angry that you’d hurt his precious little angel.”

  The word precious used to describe that pig of an angel caused red spots to wink over her vision. She was Aeron’s precious. Her. No one else.

  Lucifer waved his hand regally, and the air in front of Legion thickened, wavered, dust motes sparkling. Colors burst to life. Then Aeron was there, bending down and gently lifting the angel’s wrist to his mouth. He sucked at the poison Legion had injected in her, and her lithe body stilled.

  Seeing his mouth on that disgusting interloper caused the red to brighten and rage to flood her. Rage and hate and determination.

  “How will you help me?” she found herself asking. The scene disappeared and she was once more looking at Lucifer. Perhaps bargaining with him wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps she would be the one to come out ahead. She was smart. Resourceful. Right?

  “Let’s face it,” he said, gaze raking over her scaled body. “You’re as ugly as a creature can be.”

  Her jaw dropped as wave after wave of hurt hit her, and she tried to backpedal, wanting to hide. She wasn’t ugly. Was she? She was different from Aeron, yes. She was different from the angel, as well. But that didn’t mean she was ugly.

  “I can practically hear the thoughts in your head. Allow me to address them. Yes, you are indeed ugly. Actually, saying you’re ugly is being kind. I can hardly stand to look at you. In fact, to settle my stomach I’m going to have to stare just over your shoulder while we finish this conversation.”

  She was ugly, then. Hideous. A monster. The devil himself couldn’t even bear to look at her. Tears filled her eyes. “How will you help me, then?” she asked again.

  He gazed down at his yellowed, curling nails, as if he hadn’t a care. “I, powerful being that I am, can make you pretty.”

  “How?” she insisted.

  “To start, I’d give you silky, flowing hair. Any color you desired and far better than the angel’s. I’d give you smooth, creamy skin. Again, any color you desired. I’d give you bedroom eyes no man can resist. A tall, slender body with big breasts. Men go crazy for those, you know. And while a forked tongue has its uses in bed, I’d probably get rid of that. Your lisp is annoying.”

  He could make her pretty? Pretty enough to win Aeron? Hope bloomed in her chest; the mere thought of finally being with the man of her dreams—living as husband and wife—had her shedding one reservation after another. “What do you desire in return?”

  “Oh. That,” he said, shrugging as if it were of no importance. “All I’d want is to possess your new body.”

  She frowned. “I don’t underssstand. How could I win Aeron if I’m not…me? How could I win Aeron if you are me?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I see you’re stupid, too, which means we’ll have to fix that, as well. I didn’t mean I’d possess your new body right away, my single-minded friend. I would be allowed to do so only if you failed to win him.”

  Her frown intensified. Being beautiful didn’t mean she’d automatically win?

  The silence earned her a shake of his head. “Clearly breaking my meaning down as if I were talking to a child didn’t work. What else can I do?”

  Her cheeks heated, and it had nothing to do with the fire around them. She wasn’t stupid or a child, damn him! “You’re trying to confussse me on purpossse.”

  “Actually, I’m not. I don’t want you crying foul later. So listen closely. I will give you nine days to seduce Aeron. I would say all you have to do is gain his declaration of love, but you already have that. What you don’t have is his sexual attraction, and that’s what you really want. So get him in your bed, of his own free will, and you win our bargain. You may keep your new body and live happily ever after. Withou
t my interference.”

  Everything sounded fair and wonderful and perfect. Everything but the timing. “Why only nine days?”

  “Does the reason matter? It won’t change anything about the bargain.”

  Resistance. Of course the reason mattered. “Tell me,” she insisted.

  “Fine. Nine is my favorite number.”

  A lie, definitely. She could push, but… Was learning the truth more important than gaining a chance at that which she desired most?

  No.

  “And if I fail?” she asked. He’d told her what he wanted, yes, but she needed every detail.

  “Well.” His fingertips traced circles on the arms of his throne. “If you fail to seduce him into your bed, for fucking, not sleeping, within the allotted time, you must allow me to possess your new body, as I said. For however long I wish.”

  There it was. The final detail. He would be able to control her for “however long” he wished. In other words, forever.

  But why would he want— The answer slammed into her and she gasped. Lucifer viewed her as his ticket to escaping hell. Because Legion wasn’t bound to hell, but to Aeron, she was allowed to leave this place. Lucifer was not. He was trapped here.

  If she gave him permission to overtake her, he would then be free to leave. What he wanted, they would do. She would be aware, yes, but her wants would cease to matter.

  If it were as simple as taking control of her body and using it to escape, Lucifer wouldn’t waste time bargaining with her. But demons couldn’t possess bodies, human or otherwise, without permission. Even the demons in Pandora’s box had needed the gods’ blessing to possess the Lords.

  “It all comes down to whether or not you think you can succeed,” Lucifer said. “Do you? I certainly do, which makes me feel silly for even offering this bargain. Perhaps I shouldn’t have.” In one fluid movement, he pushed to his feet. “I mean, there are other, weaker demons I can—”

  “Hold on,” she rushed out. “Jussst hold on.”

  Slowly he eased back down.

  She couldn’t let this chance slip away. The angel, who was incapable of speaking a lie, had told her that Aeron saw her as a child. That Aeron considered himself a father figure to her. That would never change—unless she did something drastic.

  “Termsss must be ssspelled out.”

  “Haven’t they already?”

  “Not from my end.”

  He clutched a hand over his chest. “You don’t trust me?”

  She shook her head. A bargain was binding, even for creatures such as them. Once they both agreed, she would be trapped, the bargain a living entity inside her. There could be no changing her mind. If she failed, she would concede what she’d promised, unable to stop herself.

  “I’m wounded. But very well,” he said. “State exactly what you expect from me.”

  If she didn’t, she would receive no more than that, but most assuredly less. “I have to be prettier than the angel, with pale hair, golden skin, brown eyes and big breasts.” All the opposite of the little bitch. “I want the entire nine days, with no time warpsss.” As she spoke, her excitement grew. She was really going to do this. She was really going to try and win Aeron’s heart. “And I want to be awake when I’m with him.”

  “Damn,” Lucifer said, an amused twinkle in those fiery eyes. “You caught me on that one. I planned to put you into a coma until your time was up.”

  And she had stopped him from doing so. She was feeling very proud of herself at the moment. See? She wasn’t stupid, after all. “You can’t kill him, either. If he diesss before time runsss out, the bargain diesss, too.”

  “Agreed. Now, are those your only demands?” he asked, ever the indulgent lord.

  “I don’t want to ssspeak with a lisssp, asss you sssaid. I want to firssst appear before Aeron, not halfway acrossss the world, jussst asss I am, and then I want to change bodiesss in front of him.” That way, he wouldn’t think she was Bait or a Hunter and try to get rid of her before she could seduce him.

  “Very doable. Is that all?”

  She gulped, considered, then nodded.

  Once more, he stood. He splayed his arms, fire leaping from his fingertips. “Then it’s agreed. You shall have everything you named. But if you fail to lure Aeron, Lord of the Underworld and keeper of the demon of Wrath, to your bed and inside your body within those nine days, you will return to this throne room, where you will willingly consent to my possession of your body.”

  Another nod.

  “Say it,” he demanded, no longer the kind and benevolent man he’d pretended to be.

  “I agree.”

  The moment the words left her mouth, a sharp pain tore through her. Grunting, she doubled over. She couldn’t breathe, was fading, every muscle she possessed spasming. But just as quickly as the pain had sprouted, the bargain birthing to life inside her, it left her and she straightened.

  “And so it is done,” Lucifer said. Then he gave her the same smile he’d bestowed on her when he’d first brought her here. Wicked, satisfied. “Did I forget to mention that, when you fail, my first order of business will be to murder each of the Lords of the Underworld and set their demons free?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AS THE NIGHT GAVE WAY to dawn, the citizens just now awakening and emerging to begin their days, Aeron stalked the streets, Paris at his side, both remaining in the shadows, silent. Perhaps Paris, who hadn’t hesitated in his choice of companion this time—did that mean he was finally getting over Sienna?—was as lost in thought as Aeron was as they headed back to the fortress.

  Olivia had cried herself to sleep, and he’d held her through those tears. When she’d finally fallen into unconsciousness, he’d flown her to Gilly’s apartment, thinking that things would be easier that way. If she couldn’t talk to him, she couldn’t tempt him to forget his purpose. But he hadn’t left right away. Paris had needed time with his chosen, so Aeron had snuggled in next to the angel.

  Once again, he’d found that he liked holding her. Which was all the more reason to finally get rid of her. But as he’d walked away from her, meaning to do so permanently, he’d no longer been sure he wanted to get rid of her. Not that he’d ever been sure, but damn, his resolve had been shaken.

  Seeing her in Gideon’s arms had given life to a possessive streak he hadn’t known he possessed, the earlier incidents with William and Paris paltry in comparison. The thought of Olivia roaming these roads, determined to have “fun,” alone, so easy for the plucking… His teeth ground together, a common occurrence whenever he thought of her.

  A man passed, claiming his attention. A human. Mid-twenties. Large. Instantly Wrath began growling, chomping for freedom, conveying images of meaty hands swinging at—and connecting with—a sobbing female face.

  Wifebeater, Aeron realized as Wrath flashed more of those images through his mind.

  You’re worthless, the man liked to yell, spittle spraying from his mouth. I’m not sure why I married you. You were a fat cow then and you’re a fatter cow now.

  For once, Aeron didn’t try to stop himself. What if Olivia had been the target of that rage? What if Legion had been? Allowing Wrath to pull his strings without any resistance, loving his demon more than he should, without the taint of guilt, he turned on his heel, raced forward and closed the distance between himself and the man. A man who gasped when Aeron grabbed him and spun him around.

  “What the hell?”

  “Aeron,” Paris called, weary.

  Aeron ignored him. “You disgust me, you insignificant little shit. Why don’t you try beating me?”

  The man paled, trembled. “I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but you better get out of my face, asshole.”

  Tourist, he thought, or he would have been recognized. “Or what?” Aeron smiled slowly, cruelly. “You’ll call me another bad name?”

  There was a snarl low in the man’s throat. He had a knife in his pocket, Aeron suddenly knew. He wanted to stab Aeron in
the stomach, in the neck, and watch him bleed to death.

  Without any warning, Aeron struck. His right fist connected with the man’s nose. There was a grunt, a howl of pain. Blood sprayed. He didn’t pause, but swung his other hand. His left fist connected with the man’s mouth, splitting tissue. The howl became a scream.

  Aeron wasn’t done.

  Can’t fight fair. Have to hurt. Wrath was in total control.

  Still, Aeron didn’t mind.

  As the man tried to orient himself, tried to struggle free, Aeron kneed him in the groin. His opponent doubled over, air shooting out of his crimson-soaked lips. No mercy. This bastard had never shown any. Aeron kicked him in the shoulder, and he flew backward. After that, he was in too much pain to stand or even defend himself.

  He gazed up at Aeron through tear-filled eyes. “Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.”

  “How many times has your wife said something similar to you?” Aeron dropped to his knees, straddling the man’s waist.

  Drawing on a reservoir of strength he probably hadn’t known he possessed, the white-faced man tried to scoot backward. Aeron merely tightened the grip of his legs, holding the bastard in place.

  “Please.” The man’s voice was shaky, desperate.

  Aeron struck again and again, raining one blow after another. The man’s head whipped left and right with each new impact. More blood sprayed. Teeth even flew out like pieces of candy. Skin split and bones broke.

  Soon, there were no grunts, no gasps.

  A hand patted his shoulder. “You’ve punished him. You can stop now,” Paris said from behind him.

  Aeron stilled. He was panting, his knuckles throbbing. Too easy. That had been too easy. The man hadn’t paid enough for the damage he’d inflicted. But maybe he learned a lesson, a voice of reason said inside Aeron’s head. For reason to have returned, control must be his once again.

  “Let’s go home,” Paris suggested.

  Home, no. He wasn’t ready to return to his room—to see the bed where he’d kissed and touched Olivia. Still, Aeron stood. He gave the man a final kick in the stomach before facing his friend. “I need some time. Alone.”