Lords of the Underworld Bundle

by Gena Showalter

  What’s wrong with me?

  She’d asked herself that very question a thousand times, it seemed. For once, she thought she might know the answer. Infatuation. She was infatuated with Reyes, and had been since the beginning.

  There. She’d admitted it. No excuses this time, no talking herself out of it. He drew her; she wanted him, and she needed to not want him. Her desire had begun to color her every action, her every thought and what little common sense she had left.

  Danika jumped to her feet. Her knees nearly buckled, but she latched on to the bedpost and held tightly. Being with Reyes wouldn’t be pleasurable. It couldn’t be. She’d have to stab him. But maybe she needed to experience it firsthand. Maybe that would finally drive him from her mind and her fantasies.

  She could purge him from her thoughts as surely as she purged her nightmares when she painted.

  Just the idea caused goose bumps to form on her skin and shivers to trek the length of her spine vibrating through her so that the shaking in her limbs increased. Her mouth dried. Desire and nervousness swam through her bloodstream, a balance of good and evil. The thought made her laugh, but it emerged as a croak.

  Licking her lips, she released the post and stumbled forward. No telling how long Reyes would be gone. She’d have to keep herself busy, distracted, or she would be a bundle of anxious energy and sickness when he returned, unable to crawl into bed for anything more than sleep.

  There was only one thing she knew of that would absorb her concentration completely. Painting.

  Her hands were itching with anticipation before she reached the closed door. The metal was cold against her skin as she twisted the knob. As she stepped inside, she expected a closet full of supplies. Instead, she found another bedroom, spacious, airy—and converted into an artist’s studio.

  She drank in the luxury, a shocked gasp escaping her. Canvas after blank canvas awaited her, each propped on an easel. Against the far wall was a table lined with multisized brushes and tubes of color.

  He did this for me. Not because he’d wanted to see into her dreams. He hadn’t known about them when he’d done this. But simply because he wanted her to be happy. The realization was as shocking as the studio itself, and she found herself softening all the more toward him.

  “What am I going to do with you, Reyes,” she whispered.

  How many times would Reyes surprise her like this? First the clothing, then his attempts at soothing her fears, and now this dream studio. Everything he did, everything he said, battered against her sense of self-preservation. Danika’s hand fluttered over her racing heart. Even at home, she hadn’t had such an elaborate setup. She’d made a livable wage painting portraits, but spare cash had been a rarity.

  Before she became aware she’d taken a step, she was standing in front of the table, lifting the brushes, testing their weight and feeling their bristles. Reyes wanted to see the images from her dreams, the angels and the demons, the gods and goddesses. Suddenly she wanted to give him anything, everything.

  But as she studied the palette of colors, both oils and acrylics, she knew her dreams would not be the focus of her first painting tonight. He would.

  REYES PREPARED ANOTHER MEAL for Danika. Thankfully Paris had gone shopping before leaving for Rome, so there was plenty to choose from.

  He carried the tray of fresh fish and salad to his bedroom, experiencing a slight twinge of panic when he didn’t spot Danika right away. A quick search, and he found her in the studio, serene as she sketched something on one of the canvases. So absorbed was she that she didn’t hear him enter. Did not even look at him when he called her name.

  Her eyes were glazed, as if she were in some sort of trance. Her wrist flicked up and down the blank board gracefully, her body swaying from side to side in a fluid dance. His chest ached, his cock swelled. Pain battered against his skull to get to her. None of that.

  Not wanting to distract her, he left. Breathed in and out, trying to still his raging heartbeat. He didn’t think her lovely image would ever leave his mind. Hair hastily tied back, several strands escaping. Black smudges on her cheek and jaw. Lips red and glistening from the sharp nibble of her teeth.

  He was rock hard and shaking uncontrollably by the time he reached the entertainment room. He hadn’t realized he’d done it, but he’d already palmed his blades. Desperate for pain, he plopped onto the dark red couch; the men refused to buy any other color upholstery because of him, a fact that sometimes embarrassed him.

  At least he didn’t feel the need to jump from the fortress roof again.

  “So what’s a guy have to do to get some action around here?”

  Reyes’s head whipped to the side at the sound of that unknown voice. One of his daggers was soaring through the air a second later.

  An unfamiliar warrior lounged in the plush red recliner, legs extended, the very picture of tranquility. He captured Reyes’s weapon without a blink and studied the hilt. “Nice work. You make it yourself?”

  Recognition suddenly dawned. “William.” Anya’s friend. Not many people could make it up the hill and into the fortress without setting off Torin’s traps and sensors. But Torin had turned them off for this man, and Anya had warned everyone in the house to leave him alone or suffer the consequences.

  “Yep, that’s me. I know, I know. You’re humbled I’m here, feel like throwing rose petals at my feet, blah, blah, blah. No need, though. Just try and think of me as a normal guy.”

  Reyes rolled his eyes. Anya had failed to mention the immortal was an arrogant ass. “Yes, I made the blade. Why are you here?”

  Frowning, William tangled a strong hand through his black-as-night hair. “Boredom, my friend. Boredom. Everyone just took off, no welcome party for me or anything. I decided to watch some TV, but the only movies you’ve got are porn and as I’ve been without a female for the past few weeks, they’re just making me jealous.”

  “The movies belong to Paris,” he said.

  A laugh. A shake of William’s head. “Say no more. I met the man.”

  “I did not mean, why are you in this room. Why are you in Budapest? Why are you in this fortress?”

  William shrugged those big shoulders. “Answer doesn’t change. Boredom. Well,” he added after a moment’s thought, “maybe it changes a little. Anya came to visit me not too long ago and put me in a tight spot with the new god king. I failed him, so he burned my home to the ground—even though he got what he wanted anyway. I’ve got nowhere else to go and Anya owes me big-time.”

  Reyes stiffened, every muscle in his body going on alert. “If you came to hurt her, I will—”

  “Relax.” The warrior held up one hand, palm out. His blue eyes twinkled as he raised his shirt with the other. “I couldn’t hurt her even if I wanted to, and believe me, I’ve wanted to. She stabbed me right here.”

  His gaze lowered to the man’s stomach. A long, thick scar slashed through his navel. “Nice.”

  “Girl always has been good with knives.” William dropped the shirt and grinned.

  Except for the scar, looking at William was like beholding the most perfect being ever created. Perfect skin, tanned and smooth. Perfect nose, sloped and straight. Perfect teeth, perfect cheekbones, perfect jaw. He was leanly muscled and exuded confidence. Reyes did not want the man anywhere near Danika.

  Thinking of Danika caused his stomach to knot. “You said you desired a woman?” Reyes asked him.

  William sat up, his features practically glowing with anticipation. “Have one in mind?”

  “Meet me at the front door. Fifteen minutes.”

  Without another word, Reyes marched from the room and into his chamber. Danika stood in the exact same spot he’d left her, still lost in her painting. She hadn’t even begun adding colors yet, but was still sketching the outline.

  He didn’t know much about the process, but suspected she would be at the task for hours more. His body was on fire, more so than before, and he needed pain. Taking matters into his own hands had n
ot helped, had only managed to shock Danika and embarrass him.

  Tomorrow they would be traveling and in close proximity. He would smell her sweet scent constantly. He would hunger for her desperately. And he might not be able to cut himself as he would need. If he didn’t completely sate himself tonight, he could end up hurting or scaring Danika. Pain might try and force her to do things she wouldn’t want to do. Things that would haunt her for the rest of her life. That, Reyes would not tolerate.

  Perhaps he would take another woman.

  The idea plagued him as he showered. Clean and dry, he strapped weapons all over his body, pulled on a fresh shirt and leather duster. As he tied his boots, he watched Danika work. Bedding a woman was dangerous, and could quite possibly be disastrous. How many lives had he already destroyed?

  Maybe it won’t be like that anymore. Maybe enough time had passed to dilute the demon’s power so it would no longer affect his partner. Maybe. Besides, Reyes had better control now. But the thought of being with another woman sickened him. He wanted this one. He wanted her body underneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist, squeezing him, her pleasure moans in his ears.

  But he couldn’t have her, and he knew it. Not now. Not yet. If the woman he bedded tonight showed no signs of bloodlust…maybe. All he could do was breathe Danika in deeply—gods, that sea-storm scent drove him wild—and stalk from the room.

  William was already at the front door, pacing. When he spotted Reyes, he stopped and grinned. “Where we going?”

  “Club Destiny.” Before Reyes could talk himself into staying home, he strode past him, out the door and into the daylight. The air was slightly chilled, rain clouds in the muted sky. Several rays of sunlight seeped from the canopy of trees.

  “Anyone going to be there?” William asked, keeping pace beside him. “It’s only midday.”

  “Someone will be there.” Many someones. “Paris visits the club at all hours of the day and night, so women stay there, waiting for him.”

  William rubbed his hands together. “Humans, right?”

  “Yes.” He maneuvered around the thick base of a tree, careful of its limbs. One touch, and poisoned darts would be released, slamming into his chest.

  “Not into human females?”

  He flicked the warrior a glance. “What do you mean?”

  “There was disgust in your voice just now.”

  Oh, yes. He was disgusted. With himself. “I like human females. Be careful of that rock,” he added without pause. “A pit waits on the other side of it.”

  They steered clear, already halfway down. Wind rustled the leaves and whistled through the stones. “Why all the traps up here?” William asked, clearly intrigued. “I mean, I noticed the trip wires, the poisoned darts and the hanging stones on my way up.”

  “Hunters once came knocking.”

  “Ah. Say no more. Let’s get back to the blonde.”

  Reyes’s hands fisted at his sides, bereft without his blades. He felt as though unseen gazes were boring into him, spotlighting his flaws, his mistakes. Judging. Condemning. This might be the wrong decision, leaving her, but he didn’t know what else to do. He wanted her so badly, had to have her, but couldn’t until he’d proven she was safe from his demon. Which meant being with another woman.

  But would she want him if he first took someone else?

  “She’s feisty. I like that.”

  “She is not up for discussion,” Reyes snapped.

  “Ouch. Touchy subject. I see your little demon awakens when she’s mentioned. Your eyes glowed neon-red, just like Lucien’s tend to do when he looks at me.” Chuckling, unafraid, William held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll never bring your girl up again, swear.”

  “You are odd,” Reyes told him. “Most would tremble at the thought of my demon. You laugh.”

  “You forget. I fought Anya, and she’s fiercer than all of your demons put together.” William slung an arm around Reyes’s shoulder. “Ten minutes with me, and I can help you forget the person I’m not supposed to talk about. You’ll see.”

  They strode in silence for several minutes and soon hit the bottom of the hill. The sensation of being watched increased, and Reyes studied the surrounding area, gaze cutting through the shadows. Nothing seemed out of place, no one lurked nearby, but he didn’t relax his guard.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said, and moved forward.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “YOUR REPORT, Stefano?”

  “Gladly. I spoke with the girl. She mentioned another demon. Hope. Said this one’s the Lords’ enemy. Clearly they lied to her. Hope is not evil. Besides, we’ve seen and heard nothing of him. As for movement, at fifteen hundred hours, the one called Reyes left the fortress with a warrior we haven’t yet been able to identify. The girl just left the premises, as well.”

  “Was she bound?”

  Dean Stefano sat at his desk and held a phone to his ear, sweat pouring from him. After talking with Danika, he’d spent a little time in front of the punching bag, hammering away. Then a call had come in from a trusted source, one who had relayed unexpected news. News that could destroy everything he’d worked for these past ten years.

  Then he’d had to make a call of his own. This call. His heart would not stop pounding.

  “No,” he said. “She didn’t appear subdued in any way. She was with the female demon Cameo and seemed willing to follow her. I’d say she acted of her own accord. Might even be working with the demons now.” It would be a shame if that were true; he’d had high hopes for young Danika.

  His boss remained silent for several seconds. They had worked together for a decade now, and he knew Galen to be single-minded in his pursuit of a life without Lords. Fierce, ruthless in his quest. Righteous.

  That’s as it should be. Galen was an angel, sent from the heavens. A living, breathing angel who flew through the skies on the wings of glory. Stefano hadn’t believed him, not at first. Then he’d seen the wings. Then he’d looked deep into the man’s eyes—eyes as fathomless as the sky, eyes that offered hope in a world of despair. Stefano had grabbed on to that hope for all he was worth.

  Galen had assured Stefano that when the demons were gone, the world would become a peaceful place. Pain and misery, pestilence and disease would be things of the past, a distant memory. Ten years he’d been fighting this battle, and he’d never regretted it. His wife would be avenged, and never again would a happy couple be hurt as they’d been.

  “Keep a close eye on them. Do not trust the girl and do not let them take her anywhere. If they try to move her, kill her.”

  “You can count on me.” In war, there were always casualties. “There’s something else.” He gulped. “The girl…she’s not simply a human. My source claims she’s some type of living weapon. Supernatural, like the demons. What she is exactly, he didn’t know. But if she is working with the Lords and if she does have special powers…”

  There was a pause. “Why did you let her go then? Not only let her go, but gift wrap her and deliver her to the enemy?”

  Because you told me to, he thought, but didn’t say it. They had the same objective, and discord would only distract them. “My apologies. How shall I proceed?”

  “Retrieve her. And if you can’t—kill her. Better she dies than helps them.”

  DANIKA GAZED AROUND the nightclub. A silver strobe hung from the ceiling and tossed glistening pinpricks of light in every direction. They gleamed like stars in a black velvet sky, made for wishing and dreaming.

  Hungarian rock blasted from the speakers. People danced, their bodies undulating together in a heady rhythm. Hands roved, caressing, kneading…seeking. The scent of sex practically coated the air. Waitresses hustled drinks from the bar to tables, then raced back to grab a few more.

  Where was Reyes?

  On the dance floor? Grinding his erection into another woman? Asking that other woman to scratch him, bite him, hurt him?

  Danika’s hands curled into fists. She’d finis
hed the preliminary sketches on two paintings and had even added a little color. One, she’d hidden. It was for her eyes alone. The other she’d propped in the studio before going in search of Reyes, knowing he would want to see it. She hadn’t found him. Instead, she’d found Cameo, the beautiful woman who made her want to pluck out her eyes and jam sticks into her ears.

  Cameo had escorted her here and now stood at her side. “Look. I probably shouldn’t have brought you here, or let you leave the fortress at all. Try to run, and you won’t like me when I catch you. But I’m a sucker for romance, so here we are. See him?”

  “I won’t run.” The emotional pain caused by the woman’s voice was almost too much, and she nearly covered her ears to block it. “And no, I don’t see him.”

  “When you do, just remember he is a warrior with a tortured past you cannot even imagine. If you want him, you’ll have to fight him.”

  Maybe it was their topic, but the more Cameo spoke, the more the sensation of misery eased. “Don’t you mean for him? Fight for him?”

  “Oh, no. You’ll have to fight him. He won’t surrender to his feelings easily. Good luck. Remember, no running or you’ll regret it.” With that, the female warrior disappeared into the shadows, leaving Danika alone in the doorway.

  Well, as alone as a woman could be when surrounded by people. Were any Hunters among them? The suspicion chilled her. What if they were here? Stefano had told her several of his men would be in the area. What if they saw her? Tried to talk to her? Sweet Jesus. She and Stefano hadn’t covered what to do in this type of situation because neither of them had thought she would be leaving the fortress. Despite the ice in her blood, sweat instantly beaded over her skin.

  Where the hell was Reyes?

  As she barreled her way through the crowd, her gaze scanned every face. No one familiar jumped out at her. By the time she reached the bar, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.

  “What’ll it be?” the bartender asked in Hungarian.

  She’d spent a month studying the language before she and her family had first flown here, so she knew enough to get by. “Coke,” she replied, not wanting to risk alcohol. Though numbness would have been welcome, all of her wits were needed.