Lords of the Underworld Bundle

by Gena Showalter

  Suddenly the bed bounced, and her eyes jerked back to Reyes. He had propped his back against the headboard, widening the distance between them. That should have pleased her. Yes, it should have.

  “I have a feeling I will always come for you.” His angry voice whipped through the silence, his accusing expression laying the blame at her feet.

  Once again her eyelids narrowed to tiny slits. “Let me guess. You’ll always come for me because you like hurting me. Well, why didn’t you just kill me while I slept? I wouldn’t have been able to fight. You could have cut my throat, quick, easy. That is what you ultimately plan to do, isn’t it? Or have you changed your mind?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. He remained silent.

  “Have you captured the rest of my family?”

  Again, no reply. Only that increasingly erratic tick.

  “Answer me, damn you!” She slammed her fist into the mattress. The frustrated and panicked action offered no relief from the sudden horror in her chest. “Do you know where they are? If they’re alive?”

  Finally he deigned to speak again. “I have done nothing to them. You have my word.”

  “Liar!” She’d sprung across the bed before she even realized what she was doing, slapping his face, pounding her fists into his wounds to cause maximum pain. “You know something. You have to know something.”

  His eyes closed and a blissful smile lifted the corners of his lips.

  Her fury intensified. “You think this is funny? Well, what about this?” Seething, not knowing where the desire came from, she launched forward and sank her teeth into his neck, incisors digging so deep she immediately tasted blood.

  He moaned. His hands tangled in her hair, not jerking her away but urging her closer. She offered no resistance; she couldn’t. Embers of her anger and helplessness were twisting, breaking apart and realigning into something infinitely sweeter. The heat of him…so good, so damn good. He burned her soul-deep, flames licking at her, consuming her. She liked it, liked hurting him, liked having her mouth on him, and the knowledge shamed her.

  Between her legs, his shaft swelled and hardened. When he moaned a second time, it blended with the sound of hers. He arched into her—yes, like that—and she scraped her nails up his chest, to his nipples.

  A harsh animal growl filled her ears as his hands settled on her waist, squeezing. His hips writhed against her. Again. She wanted him to do it again. But a moment later, he stilled.

  “Stop, Danika. You have to stop.”

  No, she didn’t want to stop. She wanted—what the hell are you doing? Nibbling on the enemy?

  Her jaw went slack. Gasping for breath, she jolted backward. His arms fell to his sides, his features hard, tight. She wiped her mouth with the back of a shaky wrist. Her entire body was shaking. Her nipples were pearled and aching, her stomach clenched. A metallic tang coated her tongue.

  Reyes shifted, covering his jean-clad, swollen cock with the sheet. His cheeks glowed a rosy pink shade. Was he embarrassed? Blood trickled from his neck and swirled down his chest like a tiny, winding river. As she watched, the blood dried and the bite marks partially healed, already scabbing.

  Monster, she reminded herself. He’s a monster.

  Horror—at her feelings, her actions, and his—washed through her. Must have coated her expression, too, because he said, “Do not touch me again, and I will not touch you.”

  “Don’t worry.” A violent tremor overtook her, and she crossed her arms over her middle. She’d wanted to hurt him, had liked it even. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? “I won’t come near you.”

  “Good.” He paused, his eyes perusing her body. Checking for injuries or something more erotic? “What did those men do to you?” He sounded unemotional now, her answer clearly of no importance.

  That nonchalance irritated her. She hated him, so why did she want him to care? “They—” A wave of dizziness suddenly attacked her. A groan pierced the air. Hers, she realized. Her eyelids closed, so heavy she could no longer hold them open. Her adrenaline had crashed, she supposed, draining her strength.

  How long since she’d eaten? Stefano hadn’t fed her, had only given her sips of water every few hours. And he’d injected her with something. Something that had spun her mind out of control, tossing it into the sky before dropping it into a churning ocean to be ripped into a thousand pieces.

  “We can’t make it too easy for them,” Stefano had said. “We knew the demon of Death would follow the trail we left him, and that he’d have no idea we were expecting him. We worked hard to make this abduction look real and I won’t fail in that endeavor now. No food, no fresh clothes. We can drug you or we can beat you. Which do you prefer?”

  “Neither.”

  “Choose or I’ll choose for you. Don’t forget, Danika, you’re doing this for your family.”

  “So much for my training,” she’d laughed resentfully. “Drug me. Again, apparently.”

  “Danika, what did those men do to you?”

  Present collided with past, tearing her from those surreal musings. Stupid girl. Do not relax your guard in front of Reyes!

  She pried her eyelashes apart. The world around her was blurred, Reyes nothing more than a dark slash directly in front of her. His fingers were gripping her shoulders and urging her down…gently…softly. As her vision cleared, she saw that his usually harsh features now seemed almost tender with concern.

  “No touching,” she told him, the words slurred. Delicious heat once again enveloped her. Perhaps the demon blood she’d ingested was responsible. “We agreed.”

  “Shhh.” His breath caressed her cheek, as warm as his touch. “Relax. We will talk later.”

  “Go to hell.”

  He had no trouble understanding her. “Didn’t we once have this very conversation? I’m already there.”

  Fight this. Fight him! She tried, she really did, but a dark tunnel beckoned her, dragging her closer and closer to the edge. “Where is…my mom? My sister? Grandma?”

  “I’m sure they are fine.” Fingers brushed her brow, softly smoothing her hair behind her ears.

  “I want…to see…them. I won’t…sleep. Can’t make me. Hungry.”

  “I’ll feed you.” A petal-soft press of…lips? Yes, lips against the corner of her mouth.

  She inhaled deeply, suddenly drowning in the scent of man and spice and inexplicably happy for it. “Hate you,” she said, wishing she meant it.

  “I know.” He whispered directly in her ear, his warm breath traveling inside. “Sleep now, angel. You are safe. I will allow nothing else to happen to you.”

  She sagged. The cool mattress pressed against her back. Flames on top, ice beneath. Unable to fight any longer, she fell into the tunnel. Oblivion claimed her.

  SHE WAS HERE, IN HIS BED. His bed.

  Waiting for her to awaken had been a lesson in self-control and Reyes had begun to grow fearful that she would sleep forever. Then she had pulled herself from slumber, those long lashes cracking open to reveal bright emerald eyes, and he’d gotten a real lesson in self-torture.

  Pain didn’t like that Reyes was in the process of tiptoeing from the room. More, want more teeth and nails and hurt. “No.”

  The demon roared inside his mind.

  Reyes pressed onward, only throwing one backward glance over his shoulder. Danika’s black locks were splayed over his pillow, her face where his often rested. That knowledge filled him with pride. Even now, she might be breathing in his scent, making his essence a part of her.

  Or perhaps not.

  Danika slept fitfully, eyes rolling behind her lids, body twisting, small moans of alarm escaping her. Did she dream of what the Hunters had done to her? What had they done? Torture her for answers? Rape?

  She had not answered him when he’d asked, had told him nothing, in fact. He hadn’t pressed her, for her pulse had quickened at the base of her neck, her skin had lost any semblance of color and panic had glazed her lovely eyes.

  Fists c
lenched, he pounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Soon. He would see her again, talk to her again and learn the truth. He had to know. And perhaps by then he would forget the horror he’d seen in her expression when she realized he had enjoyed being bitten.

  Gods, that bite. His heartbeat had yet to slow from the pleasure of it. He’d held Danika, her sharp little teeth in his neck. For a single moment, she’d responded to him sensually; she’d wanted him, had been unable to stop herself from grinding against his cock. Then he’d realized it wasn’t him she desired but pain, the demon already clouding her judgment, and he had commanded her to stop. She’d wrenched away. The physical agony he’d experienced in that moment had been the worst of his life—and the best.

  Pain wanted more.

  Hands shaky, Reyes opened the refrigerator. Paris did the shopping, so Reyes never knew what he’d find. Today’s selection was shaved meats and loaves of bread. A sandwich, then.

  “Where is Aeron?” Lucien asked behind him. “I kept my part of our bargain. The time has come for you to keep yours.”

  Reyes didn’t turn. “I will take you to him. In the morning.”

  “No. You will take me to him now.”

  Reyes withdrew a package of turkey and a package of ham, looked from one to the other, then shrugged. He didn’t know which Danika would prefer, so he would make her both. “Danika is weak and hungry. After I see to her needs, I will be at your disposal.”

  The usually calm Lucien uttered a low growl. “Every minute he is locked away is probably absolute agony. Our demons cannot stand to have their hosts restrained, and you know it. Wrath is likely screaming for release, even now.”

  “Need I remind you again that he begged for it? And what I know is that when Aeron is brought here, he will have to be…what? Locked away. What is the difference if the prison is somewhere else? Besides that, he does not want to be near us.” Reyes tossed the packages onto the counter and grabbed one of the loaves of bread. Wheat.

  Did she like wheat or white? After a moment’s deliberation, he decided to use both. Just in case. He pinched the plastic covering the white and slid the loaf in front of him. “I’m only asking for one more night.”

  “What if he’s dying? We are immortal, yes, but under the right circumstances we can die like any other living thing. Another fact you already know.”

  “He’s not dying.”

  “How do you know?” Lucien insisted.

  “Somehow I can feel his desperation burning inside of me every minute of every day. It is stronger with every second that passes, as I’m sure he is weaker against Wrath.” Reyes drew in a breath, held…held…then slowly released it, letting his sudden burst of anger leave him, too. “Just a few more hours. That’s all I ask. For me, for Danika. For him.”

  There was a heavy pause. He fit two slices of meat atop each slice of bread, smashed them together.

  “Very well,” Lucien said. “A few.” His boots clomped as he strode away.

  Reyes studied the sandwiches. “Not enough,” he muttered. Humans needed variety. Isn’t that what Paris always said about his lovers? Frowning, Reyes opened the refrigerator again and searched inside. His gaze landed on a bag of purple grapes. Yes, perfect. Last time Danika had stayed here, she’d plowed through a bowl of the fruit in minutes.

  He withdrew the entire bag, washed the contents and spread them around the four sandwiches.

  What would she like to drink? Back to the fridge he went. He saw a bottle of wine, a pitcher of water and a carton of orange juice. He knew better than to give Danika wine. The wine here was laced with ambrosia stolen from the heavens and had once almost killed Maddox’s human woman, Ashlyn.

  Reyes scooted the chilled bottle aside and latched on to the juice. He poured every drop into a tall glass.

  “Damn, boy. You feeding an army?”

  Reyes tossed a quick glance over his shoulder. Sabin leaned against the door frame, thick arms crossed over his chest. He was as modern as Paris with his silly Pirates of the Caribbean shirt, but he lacked Paris’s finesse. “She is hungry.”

  “I guessed. Tiny as she is, I don’t think she’ll be able to eat all that. Besides, she just spent three days with Hunters. You should starve her, question her about what went down, and only then, when you have answers, should you feed her.” Arm outstretched to claim one of the squares, Sabin moved forward.

  Reyes latched on to his friend’s wrist and squeezed. “Make your own or lose the hand. And she is not in league with the Hunters.”

  Sabin arched a sandy brow, the picture of pique. “How do you know?”

  He didn’t have an answer, but he would not allow anyone to hurt her in any way. “Just stay away from her,” he said, “and leave the food alone.”

  “Since when are you so giving?” Gideon asked at his other side, swiping a sandwich before Reyes could do anything about it.

  “Giving” equaled “stingy” in Gideon’s messed-up world.

  “Back off,” Reyes growled.

  Both warriors chuckled.

  “Yeah. Whatever,” Sabin said, and grabbed a sandwich with his free arm.

  Reyes ground his teeth together. I will not pull a weapon on my friends. I will not pull a fucking weapon on my friends.

  “Oh, goodie! Food.” Anya skipped into the room, Ashlyn at her side, their arms linked. “I thought I smelled the sweet scent of culinary genius.”

  Red spotted Reyes’s vision as he gathered the plate and the glass before the women could confiscate a single crumb or drop. “Danika’s,” he said tightly.

  “But I really like turkey.” Anya pouted up at him. She was tall for a woman, but even in four-inch heels she only reached Reyes’s chin. “Besides, when I slap a sandwich together, it never tastes as good as when you do it. There’s something so delicious about food prepared by a man.”

  “Not my problem.” He tried to step around her, but she leapt in front of him, hands fisted on her hips. He sighed, knowing she would trip him if he attempted to pass her. “Lucien will cook something for you.”

  Another pouting frown. “He’s out collecting souls.”

  “Paris, then.”

  “He’s doing some chick in town, the nympho.”

  “Starve,” Reyes told her unsympathetically.

  “I’ll make us something,” Ashlyn offered, rubbing her slightly swollen belly. She was pregnant, just beginning to show. “While I do, I want to hear all about Danika.”

  Reyes wasn’t sure how he felt about the coming birth. Would the baby be a demon? A human? He couldn’t decide which would be worse. Constant inner torment or mortality? “She’s well. Nothing more to say.”

  “Make me something, too,” Sabin told Ashlyn. “I’m ninety-seven percent famished. That sandwich I stole only helped a little.”

  “I’m totally full,” Gideon said, which meant he was on the verge of starvation. He wiped his hands to dislodge any remaining crumbs.

  “Shame on you boys for making a pregnant woman do all the work,” Anya scolded.

  “Hey!” Sabin wagged a finger at the gorgeous goddess. “You’re letting a pregnant woman make your sandwich. How is that any different?”

  “Pregnant or not, I’ll let her make me one, too.”

  At the sound of that scratchy voice, everyone stilled. Turned. A collective gasp rang out. Then a collective, “Torin!”

  Grinning, Ashlyn stepped toward the now-healed warrior, arms opening to hug him. Anya latched on to her shoulder and jerked her back.

  “He’s Disease, sweetness,” the goddess said. “You can’t touch him without getting sick, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Ashlyn smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re better.”

  Torin smiled in return, though his expression was tinted with sadness and yearning. “Me, too.”

  He looked just as Reyes remembered—before the man’s neck had been cut from end to end by Hunters, that is. White hair, black brows and bright green eyes. Beautifully masculine and utterly eerie. He wore bl
ack gloves that stretched from fingertips to armpits, for he could not touch another living being skin to skin without infecting it with disease. Not even an immortal. The warriors would not become ill themselves if they touched him, but they would spread the disease to humans.

  “How are you feeling?” Reyes asked him.

  “Better.” That green gaze lowered to the plate Reyes held. “Hungry.”

  “Back off,” Reyes said. “I’m glad you’re better, but not enough to share.”

  Torin’s grin lost its edge of sadness. “You almost make me wish I were still bed-bound. You’d have to bring me food with a smile. Oh, guess what?” he said, pivoting toward Anya. “Your friend is climbing the hill. He keeps shouting that he wants to put you over his knee and spank you, so I decided not to kill him as Lucien instructed. Guy has a blade strapped to his left thigh, but that’s the only weapon I detected. He should reach the door any—”

  Knock. Knock.

  Grinning, Anya clapped her hands. “William’s here!”

  “What is he doing here?” Reyes asked. “Lucien told him never to return or he’d kill him, and you hate him.”

  “Hate him? I adore him! Even made sure he’d come back by holding his favorite book hostage. And FYI, Lucien was only teasing about killing him. They’re BFF’s now, I swear.” She bounded off, clapping happily.

  “William!” the group in the kitchen heard a moment later.

  “Where’s my book, woman?”

  “Where’s my hug, you big teddy bear?”

  “Is this the same William who drove Lucien crazy while Anya was recovering from the loss of her key?” Ashlyn asked, just as Maddox strode up behind her and enfolded her in his arms. “And what book?”

  “The very same,” Maddox said, nuzzling her cheek. “The book, I don’t know. This William did not strike me as the intellectual type. What’s a BFF?”

  “A best friend forever.”

  Maddox frowned. “I did not get the impression the two were best friends forever or even temporarily. Someone should lock the man up until Lucien returns.”

  Ashlyn melted into her man. “Anya seems to like him. I say we leave him alone. The more, the merrier, right?”