She laughed, but he stroked her deeply, exactly where she liked and her laugh became a moan. “Then don’t get yourself cursed again, my sweet prince.”
“Cursed? Love, I have been blessed with a prize beyond measure.”
“So have I, Maddox,” she said, and they both climaxed. “So have I.”
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, LUCIEN called a meeting.
Ashlyn perched on Maddox’s lap, happier than she’d ever been. All of her dreams had come true. She could control her ability with thoughts of Maddox and he could stop the voices altogether. True love really did conquer all.
She even had a family. A real family, with a feud and everything. The two groups of men were stiff and distant with each other, though as polite as demons could be. She was determined to heal that rift, like the sister she felt she was.
Since the (reversed) stabbing, most of the warriors had treated her with affection, ruffling her hair when they saw her, joking with her about being stuck with Maddox for eternity. Except for Disease, who was still recovering from his wounds. Torin did wink at her, though. Ashlyn knew the man had to feel terrible about accidentally unleashing illness on the townspeople. The effects had been—were—devastating, yes, but thankfully modern medicine had helped contain the outbreak. Maybe he would take comfort in that. And when he healed, he could help the warriors rebuild Club Destiny, giving something back to the town.
Life was good. So much better than she could have ever imagined. She grinned.
Lucien stood at the front of the room and said, “I have talked with Sabin and, as you know, I have decided to help him search for the box. It is time the damned thing was found. As long as it’s out there, the demons are in danger of being sucked inside. Which means we’re in danger of dying.”
“Damn Hunters,” Ashlyn said, and Maddox squeezed her waist.
“They’re dead, killed by Disease,” Reyes pointed out.
Ashlyn shook her head, hating to correct him. “You killed some of them. Not all. McIntosh was merely vice president of the Institute. I never actually met the president, not in all the years I worked there. I was told he never goes out in public. I hadn’t thought about it before, but now it sounds suspicious to me. Besides that, there are a lot more employees, spread out all over the world. And maybe other Hunters who aren’t even affiliated with the Institute.”
There was a murmuring among the group.
“We hoped the box was here in Budapest,” Sabin said, stepping to Lucien’s side and frowning when the warrior tensed, as if expecting an attack. “The interrogation of a Hunter, at least, led us here. But…”
“They have found no sign of it,” Lucien finished for him. “And they would like our help.”
“You want me to help search for that box, you’re going to have to give me some direction,” Reyes said. He was on edge, Ashlyn knew, because Danika had sneaked out of the fortress that morning without a goodbye. No one had gone after her. Ashlyn was sad, having lost her first female friend, but knew it was better that way.
They had to free Aeron sometime.
Maddox had told Ashlyn about Aeron, how the man needed to kill Danika and her family. That was the only dark spot in Ashlyn’s life. But Maddox also mentioned that Reyes was determined to protect the woman, even though he was fighting the need.
Ashlyn liked to think Anya would ultimately help Danika the way she’d helped her. If Anya could help, that is. Maddox had also told her that Anya had confessed to being chased by the Titans. She was some sort of supernatural being who could pop in and out of buildings, remain cloaked in invisibility and reverse time, yet she feared being overtaken—which meant she could be overtaken.
“Watch your tone, Pain,” Cameo said, standing on Lucien’s other side. “You’re bringing down morale.”
Okay, two dark spots, Ashlyn mused. Cameo made Ashlyn’s heart weep every time she looked at her. The woman needed love. So far, though, none of the men seemed taken with her, as beautiful as she was. Everyone kept their distance, as if they feared they’d kill the woman—or themselves—if they got too close. Well, they weren’t the only males in the world. Surely someone out there could fall in love with Misery.
“Ashlyn has heard conflicting stories,” Maddox said. “Will you tell them?”
She nodded. “One says the box is being guarded by Argus. The other says the box is hidden deep in the sea, guarded by Hydra, but I don’t know where.”
Everyone groaned.
“Any ideas where we should start?” Lucien asked her.
She shook her head.
“Anya mentioned the surfacing of two temples,” Maddox said. “These temples were probably used by the gods and will not have been contaminated or picked over by humans. The moment they surface, some of us should search them. Perhaps we will find something to lead us to the correct path.”
“Excellent.” Lucien nodded. “Someone will have to stay here with Aeron and Torin and guard the fortress.”
“Ashlyn and I will stay. We’ll read tomes and texts.”
“And I’ll listen for clues in town,” she added.
Maddox squeezed her closer to his side and whispered, “I need you so badly.”
“Good. Because I plan to see to all your needs,” she told him seductively.
His mouth softened and his violet eyes dipped to her lips. “Right now I’m picturing you in a black leather suit with a sword at your side. I had Paris buy such an outfit in town earlier, as I know how you like your sexy garments.”
She melted against him, so filled with love it bubbled out of her in a continuous stream. “When I wear it, will I be fighting to protect my virtue or fighting to take yours?”
“Mine, of course.”
Arousal thrummed to instant life and she shivered. “Wanna blow this meeting and go to our room? We can get a recap later.”
“More than I can say.”
They stood. And the man with the blackest violent streak in the whole wide world chased her laughingly from the room, leaving everyone staring after them in wonder and envy.
Perhaps their time would come….
The Darkest Kiss
By Gena Showalter
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
PROLOGUE
HE WAS KNOWN AS THE Dark One. Malach ha-Maet. Yama. Azreal. Shadow Walker. Mairya. King of the Dead. He was all of those things and more, for he was a Lord of the Underworld.
Long ago he had opened dimOuniak, a powerful box made from the bones of a goddess, unleashing a horde of demons upon the earth. As puni
shment, he and the warriors who aided him were forced to house those demons inside themselves, melding light and darkness, order and chaos, until they were barely able to retain any tether on the disciplined warriors they’d once been.
Because he was the one to open the box, he had been given the demon of Death. A fair exchange, he supposed, for his action had nearly caused the demise of the world.
Now he was charged with the responsibility of collecting human souls and escorting them to their final resting place. Even if he opposed the idea. He did not like taking innocents from their families, found no joy in delivering the wicked to their damnation, but he did both without question or hesitation. Resistance, he’d soon learned, brought something far worse than death to his door. Resistance brought an agony so complete, so inexorable, even the gods trembled at the thought.
Did his obedience mean he was gentle? Caring? Nurturing? No. Oh, no. He could not afford softer emotion. Love, compassion and mercy were enemies to his plight.
Anger, though? Rage? Those he sometimes embraced.
Woe to anyone who pushed him too far, for man would become fully demon. A beast. A sinister entity who would not hesitate to curl his fingers around a human heart and squeeze. Squeeze so tightly that human would lose his breath and beg for the sweet kiss of eternal sleep only he could offer.
Oh, yes. Man had a very short leash on demon. And if you weren’t careful, they would come for you….
CHAPTER ONE
ANYA, GODDESS OF ANARCHY, daughter of Lawlessness, and dealer of disorder, stood on the edge of a crowded dance floor. All of the dancers were human females, beautiful and nearly naked, chosen specifically by the Lords of the Underworld to provide the night’s entertainment. Both vertical and horizontal.
Wisps of smoke cast a dream-fog around them, and pinpricks of starlight rained from the swirling strobe, illuminating everything inside the darkened nightclub in slow, sweeping circles. From the corner of her eye, she caught a scintillating glimpse of a taut immortal ass pounding forward, back, forward, into an ecstatic female.
My kind of party, she thought with a wicked grin. Not that she’d been invited.
Like anything could have stopped me from coming, though.
The Lords of the Underworld were delectable immortal warriors who were possessed by the demon spirits that had once resided inside Pandora’s box. And now, with a few rounds of hard liquor and even harder sex, they were saying goodbye to Budapest, the city they’d called home for hundreds of years.
Anya wanted in on the action. With one warrior in particular.
“Part,” she whispered, fighting her intrinsic compulsion to shout “Fire” instead and watch as the humans raced away in a panic, screaming hysterically. Let the good times roll.
An erratic pulse of rock music that matched the erratic beat of her heart blasted from the speakers, making it impossible for anyone to hear her. They obeyed, anyway, compelled on a level they probably didn’t understand.
A path cleared, slowly…so slowly….
Finally the object of her fascination came into view. Heated breath caught in her lungs, and she shivered. Lucien. Deliciously scarred, irresistibly stoic and possessed by the spirit of Death. Right now he sat at a table in back, expression blank as he stared up at Reyes, his friend and fellow immortal.
What were they saying? If Lucien wanted the keeper of Pain to procure one of those mortal women for him, a false declaration of “fire” would be the least of their worries. Teeth grinding together, Anya tilted her head to the side, zoned in on them while discarding all surrounding noise, and listened.
“—she was right. I checked the satellite photos on Torin’s computer. Those temples are rising from the sea.” Reyes knocked back the contents of the silver flask he held. “One is in Greece and one is in Rome, and if they continue to rise at such a swift rate, they’ll be high enough to explore sometime tomorrow.”
“Why do humans not know about them?” Lucien scrubbed his jaw with two strong fingers, a habit of his. “Paris has watched the news stations and there has been nothing. Not even speculation.”
Silly boy, she thought, relieved sex was not the night’s topic. You know about them only because I wanted you to know. No one else would—or could—see them. She had made sure of that with a sweet little thing called chaos, her strongest source of power, hiding the temples with storms to keep humans away, while at the same time feeding the Lords enough information to draw them the hell out of Buda.
She wanted Lucien out of Buda and off his game. Just for a little while. A disconcerted man was easier to control.
Reyes sighed. “Perhaps the new gods are responsible. Most days I am sure they hate us and long to destroy us, simply for being half-demon.”
Lucien’s expression remained blank. “Does not matter who is responsible. We will travel in the morning as planned. My hands itch to search one of those temples.”
Reyes tossed the now-empty flask onto the table. His fingers curled around the top of one of the chairs, his knuckles slowly bleaching of color. “If we’re lucky, we’ll find that damned box while we’re there.”
Anya ran her tongue over her teeth. Damned box, aka dimOuniak, aka Pandora’s box. Constructed from the bones of the goddess of Oppression, the box was powerful enough to contain demons so vile even hell had not been able to hold them. It was also powerful enough to suck those same demons out of the Lords, their once unwilling hosts. Now these wonderfully aggressive warriors were dependent on the beasts for their survival, and needless to say, they wanted the box for themselves.
Again, Lucien nodded. “Do not think about that now; there’ll be time enough for that tomorrow. Go and enjoy the rest of your evening. Do not waste another moment in my boring presence.”
Boring? Ha! Anya had never met anyone who excited her more.
Reyes hesitated before ambling off, leaving Lucien alone. None of the human women approached him. Looked at him, yes. Cringed when they saw his scars, sure. But none of them wanted anything to do with him—and that saved their lives.
He’s taken, biyatches.
“Notice me,” Anya commanded softly.
A moment passed. He didn’t obey.
Several humans glanced in her direction, heeding her demand, but Lucien’s gaze latched on to the empty flask in front of him and remained, becoming a wee bit wistful. Much to her consternation, immortals were immune to her commands. A courtesy of the gods.
“Bastards,” she muttered. Any restrictions they could place on her, they did. “Anything to screw with lowly Anarchy.”
Anya hadn’t been favored during her days on Mount Olympus. The goddesses had never liked her because they assumed she was a replica of her “whore of a mother” and would jump their husbands. Likewise, the gods had never respected her, again because of her mother. The guys had wanted her, though. Well, until she’d killed their precious Captain of the Guard and they’d deemed her too feral.
Idiots. The captain had deserved what she’d done to him. Hell, he’d deserved worse. The little shit had tried to rape her. If he had left her alone, she would have left him alone. But noooo. She didn’t regret cutting the black heart out of his chest, didn’t regret placing said heart on a pike in front of Aphrodite’s temple. Not even a tiny bit. Freedom of choice was precious, and anyone who tried to take hers away would feel the sting of her daggers.
Choice. The word rang inside her mind, bringing her back to the present. What the hell would it take to convince Lucien to choose her?
“Notice me, Lucien. Please.”
Once again, he ignored her.
She stomped her foot. For weeks she’d cloaked herself in invisibility, following Lucien, watching, studying. And yes, lusting. He’d had no idea she lurked nearby, even as she willed him to do all sorts of naughty things: strip, pleasure himself…smile. Okay, so the last wasn’t naughty. But she’d wanted to see his beautifully flawed face light in humor just as much as she’d wanted to see his naked body glisten with arousal.
Had he granted even that benign request, though? No!
A part of her wished she’d never seen him, that she hadn’t allowed Cronus, the new king of the gods, to intrigue her with stories about the Lords a few months ago. Maybe I’m the idiot.
Cronus had just escaped Tartarus, a prison for immortals and a place she knew intimately. He’d imprisoned Zeus and his cohorts there, as well as Anya’s parents. When Anya returned for them, Cronus had been waiting for her. He had demanded Anya’s greatest treasure. She’d declined—duh—so he’d tried to scare her.
Give me what I want or I’ll send the Lords of the Underworld after you. They are demon-possessed, as blood-hungry as starving animals, and they will not hesitate to peel the lovely flesh from your bones. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever.
Far from frightening her, his words had caused excitement to bloom. She’d ended up seeking out the warriors on her own. She’d thought to defeat them and laugh in Cronus’s face, a sort of look-what-I-did-to-your-big-scary-demons kind of thing.
One glance at Lucien, though, and she’d become instantly obsessed. She’d forgotten her reasons for being there and had even aided the supposedly malevolent warriors.
It was just that contradictions tantalized her, and Lucien had so very many. He was scarred but not broken, kind but unbending. He was a calm, by-the-book immortal, not blood-hungry as Cronus had claimed. He was possessed by an evil spirit, yet he never deviated from his own personal code of honor. He dealt with death every day, every night, yet he fought to live.
Fascinating.
As if that wasn’t enough to prick her interest, his flowery fragrance filled her with decadent, wicked thoughts every time she neared him. Why? Any other man who smelled like roses would have made her laugh. With Lucien, her mouth watered for a taste of him and her skin prickled with white-hot awareness, desperate for his touch.
Even now, simply looking at him and imagining that scent wafting to her nose, she had to rub her arms to rid herself of goose bumps. But then she thought about him rubbing her, and the delicious shivers refused to go away.
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