The Darkest Whisper - Джена Шоуолтер, читать онлайн бесплатно (полностью)

Praise for New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

GENA SHOWALTERS

Lords of the Underworld

The Darkest Night

A fascinating premise, a sexy hero and non-stop

action, The Darkest Night is Showalter at her finest, and a fabulous start to an imaginative new series. New York Times bestselling author Karen Marie Moning

Dark and tormented doesnt begin to describe

these cursed warriors called the Lords of the

Underworld. Showalter has created characters

desperately fighting to retain a semblance of

humanity, which means the heroines are in

for a rough ride. This is darkly satisfying and

passionately thrilling stuff.

Romantic Times BOOKreviews, 4 stars

Amazing! Stupendous! Extraordinary! Gena

Showalter has done it again. The Darkest Night is the fabulous start of an edgy, thrilling series Fallen Angels reviews

Not to be missedthe hottest

new paranormal series.

Night Owl Romance

The Darkest Kiss

In this new chapter the Lords of the Underworld

engage in a deadly dance. Anya is a fascinating blend

of spunk, arrogance and vulnerabilitya perfect

match for the tormented Lucien.

Romantic Times BOOKreviews, 4 1/2 stars

Talk about one dark readIf there is one book

you must read this year, pick up The Darkest Kiss a Gena Showalter book is the best of the best. Romance Junkies

The Darkest Pleasure

Showalters darkly dangerous Lords of the

Underworld trilogy, with its tortured characters,

comes to a very satisfactory conclusion[her]

compelling universe contains the possibility of

Gena ShowalterThe Darkest Whisper

www.mirabooks.co.uk

To Kresley Cole. A shining star, a talent beyond

compare, beauty personified and one of the reasons

I exist. I want to live inside your brain.

To Nix of the Immortals After Dark for coming

to play in my sandbox

To Christy Foster for all your help online

To Krystle for the wonderful title

To Nora Roberts, an amazingly talented woman

and writerwho just happens to be great at

fixing toilets, too!

To my editors Tracy Farrell and Margo Lipschultz,

whose bountiful support blesses me more

than I can ever say

And LAST on this list:

To Jill Monroe. I guess youre okay. Kind of. (Fine. I

love and adore you beyond what is deemed healthy. You are a shining star, a talent beyond compare, beauty personified and the other reason I exist.)

CHAPTER ONE

SABIN, KEEPER OF THE DEMON of Doubt, stood in the catacombs of an ancient pyramid, panting, sweating, his hands soaked in his enemys blood, his body cut and bruised as he surveyed the carnage around him. Carnage hed helped create.

Torches flickered orange and gold, twining with shadows along the stone walls. Walls that were now spattered with vivid red, drippingpooling. The sandy floor was thick like paste, wet and colored black. Half an hour ago it had been honey brown, grains sparkling and scattering as theyd marched. Now bodies littered every square inch of the small corridor, the scent of fatality already rising from them.

Nine of his enemy had survived the attack. Theyd already been stripped of their weapons, hustled into a corner and bound with rope. Most trembled in fear. A few had their shoulders squared, their noses in the air, hatred in their eyes, refusing to back down even in defeat. Damned admirable.

Too bad that bravery had to be quashed.

Brave men didnt spill their secrets, and Sabin wanted their secrets.

He was a warrior who did what needed to be done, when it needed to be done, no matter what was required of him. Killing, torturing, seducing. He didnt hesitate to ask his men to do the same, either. With Huntersmortals whod decided he and his fellow Lords of the Underworld made good whipping boys for the worlds evilvictory was the only thing that mattered. For only by winning the war could his friends finally know peace. Peace they deserved. Peace he craved for them.

Shallow, erratic rasps of breath filled Sabins ears. His, his friends, his enemies. Theyd fought with every ounce of strength they possessed, each of them. It had been a battle of good versus evil, and evil had won. Or rather, what these Hunters considered evil. He and his brothers-by-circumstance thought otherwise.

Yeah, long ago theyd opened Pandoras box, unleashing the demons from inside. But they had been punished eternally, each warrior cursed by the gods to host one of those vile fiends inside himself. Yeah, theyd once been slaves to their new, demonic halves, destructive and violent, killers without a conscience. But they had control now, human in all the ways that mattered. For the most part.

Sometimes the demons did fightdid windid destroy.

Still. We deserve to live, he thought. Like everyone else, they suffered if their friends were hurt, read books, watched movies, gave to charity. Fell in love. Hunters, though, would never see it that way. They were convinced the world would be a better place without the Lords. A utopia, serene and perfect. They believed every sin ever committed could be laid at a demons feet. Maybe because they were dumb as shit. Maybe because they hated their lives and were simply looking for someone to blame. Either way, killing them had become the most important mission of Sabins life. His utopia was a life without them.

Which was why he and the others had relinquished the comforts of their Budapest home to spend the past three weeks searching every godsforsaken pyramid in Egypt for ancient artifacts that would lead to the recovery of Pandoras boxthe very thing Hunters planned to use to destroy them. Finally, he and his friends had hit the jackpot.

Amun, he said, spotting the soldier in a far, dark corner. As usual, man blended perfectly with shadow. Sabin motioned toward the captives with a grim shake of his head. You know what to do.

Amun, keeper of Secrets, nodded forbiddingly before striding forward. Silent, always silent, as if afraid the terrible secrets hed gleaned over the centuries would spill from him if he dared utter a single word.

Seeing the hulking warrior whod ripped through their brethren like a knife through silk, the remaining Hunters took a collective step backward. Even the brave ones. Wise of them.

Amun was tall, leanly muscled, with a stride that was somehow both purposeful and graceful. Purpose without grace would have made him seem normal, like any other soldier. The combination allowed him to exude the kind of quiet savagery usually found in predators used to bringing their prey home between their jaws.

He reached the Hunters and stopped. Scanned the thinned crowd. Then shoved forward and grabbed the one in the center by the throat, lifting him so that they were eye to eye. The humans legs flailed, his hands clutching Amuns wrists as his skin blanched.

Let him go, you filthy demon, one of the Hunters shouted, jerking on his comrades waist. Youve killed countless innocents, ruined so many lives already!

Amun was unmoved. They all were.

Hes a good man, another cried. He doesnt deserve to die. Especially at the hands of such evil!

Gideon, the blue-haired, kohl-eyed keeper of Lies, was at Amuns side in the next instant, batting the protestors away. Touch him again, and Ill kiss the hell out of you. He withdrew a pair of serrated knives, still bloody from his most recent clashes.

Kiss equaled beat in Gideons upside-down world. Or was it kill? Sabin had lost track of Liess code.

A moment passed in confused silence, the Hunters trying to figure out what exactly Gideon meant. Before they could decide, Amuns hostage stilled, wilting completely, and Amun dropped him to the ground in a motionless heap.

Amun remained in place for a long while. No one touched him. Not even the Hunters. They were too preoccupied with reviving their fallen cohort. They didnt know that it was too late, that his brain had been wiped, Amun the new owner of all his deepest secrets. Perhaps even his memories. The warrior had never told Sabin how it worked, and Sabin had never asked.

Slowly Amun turned, his body stiff. His black gaze met Sabins for a bleak, tormented moment in which he couldnt mask the pain of having a new voice inside his head. Then he blinked, hiding his pain as he had a thousand times before, and strode to the far wall while Sabin watched, resolute. I will not feel guilty. This has to be done.

The wall looked the same as any other, jagged stones piled on top of each other and rising at a slant, yet Amun placed one hand on the seventh stone down, fingers splayed, then his other hand on the fifth up, fingers closed. Moving in sync, he twisted one wrist to the left, one to the right.

The stones pivoted with him.

Sabin observed the proceedings with awe. Never ceased to amaze him, what Amun could learn in a few heartbeats of time.

Once the stones settled into their new positions, a crack formed in the center of each, branching up, down, aligning with a streak of space Sabin hadnt noticed before. A section of the wall pulled backback, and finally began to inch to the side. There would be a gaping doorway when it finished, wide enough for an army of hulking beasts like himself.

As it continued to widen, cool air blustered through the catacombs, causing the torches to sputter and crackle. Hurry, he projected to the stones. Had anything ever moved with such agonizing slowness?

Any Hunters waiting on the other side? he asked, sliding his Sig Sauer from his waist and checking the clip. Three bullets left. He dug a few more from his pocket and reloaded. The custom silencer remained in place.

Amun nodded and held up seven fingers before standing guard at that ever-widening chasm.

Seven Hunters against ten Lords. He didnt count Amun because the man would soon be too distracted by the new voice in his head to fight. But gods knew Amun would still (silently) demand to be included in the action. Still. Poor Hunters. They didnt have a chance. They know were here?

A shake of that dark head.

No cameras watching their every move, then. Excellent.

Seven Hunters is childs play, Lucien, keeper of Death, confirmed as he slumped against the far wall. He was pale, his mismatched eyes bright withfever? Go on without me. Im fading. Ill soon have souls to escort, anyway. And then Ill have to flash our prisoners to the dungeon in Buda.

Thanks to the demon of Death, Lucien could move from one location to another with only a thought and was often forced to usher the dead into the hereafter. That didnt mean he himself was immune to destruction. Sabin frowned over at him. Studied him. The scars on his face were more pronounced, his nose out of joint. There was a bullet wound in his shoulder, one in his stomach, and from the looks of the crimson stain spreading from his lower back, his kidney.

You okay, man?

Lucien smiled wryly. Ill live. Tomorrow, though, Ill probably wish I hadnt. A few organs are shredded.

Ouch. Been there, had to recover from that. At least you dont have to regenerate a limb.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Amun flash hand signs.

Not only are there no cameras installed, but theyre in a chamber with soundproof walls, Sabin interpreted. This was an ancient prison and the masters did not want anyone to hear their slaves screaming. The Hunters are completely oblivious to our presence, which should make it easy to ambush them.

You dont need me for a simple ambush. Ill stay behind with Lucien, Reyes said, sliding to his ass and propping his back on a stone to hold himself up. Reyes had been paired with the demon of Pain. Physical agony brought him pleasure and being injured actually strengthened him. While fighting. When the fight ended, however, he weakened like anyone else. Right now, he was more battered than the rest of them, with a cheek so swollen his line of vision had to be shit. Besides, someone needs to guard the prisoners.

Seven against eight, then. Poor Hunters. Actually, Sabin suspected Reyes wanted to stay behind to guard Luciens body from the enemy. Lucien could take it with him to the spirit world only when he was strong enough, which he probably wasnt now.

Your women are going to give me hell, Sabin muttered. The two had recently fallen in love, and both Anya and Danika had asked only one thing of Sabin before the warriors left for Egypt: bring my man back safely.

When the boys arrived home in this damaged condition, Danika would shake her head at Sabin in disappointment as she rushed to soothe Reyes and Sabin would feel slimier than the mud on his boots. Anya would shoot him exactly as Lucien had been shot, then comfort Lucien, and Sabin would feel pain. Lots and lots of pain.

Sighing, Sabin eyed the rest of the warriors, trying to decide who was good to go and who needed to remain behind. MaddoxViolencewas the fiercest fighter hed ever known. Right now the warrior was as bloodsoaked as Sabin and panting for breath, but hed already moved beside Amun, ready for action. His woman wasnt going to be any happier with Sabin than the others.

Slight shift, and the lovely Cameo came into view. She was the keeper of Misery, as well as the only female soldier among them. What she lacked in size she made up for in ferocity. Besides, all she had to do was start talking, all the sorrows of the world in her voice, and humans were likely to kill themselves without her ever having to lay a finger on them. Someone had sliced at her neck, leaving three deep grooves. It didnt seem to slow her down as she finished cleaning her machete and joined Amun and Maddox.

Another shift. Paris was the keeper of Promiscuity and once upon a time, hed been the most jovial among them. Now he seemed harder, more restless with every day that passed, though Sabin couldnt fathom what had caused the change. Whatever the reason, he currently loomed in front of the Hunters, huffing and growling and so keyed for war he vibrated with brutal energy. And though there were two gushing holes in his right leg, Sabin didnt think the warrior would be asking to rest anytime soon.

Beside him was Aeron, Wrath. Only recently had the gods freed him from a curse of bloodlust where no one around him had been safe. Hed lived to hurt, to kill. At moments like these, he still did. Today hed fought as though that lust still consumed him, hacking at and mauling anyone within his reach. That was good, except

How much worse would that bloodlust be when the next fight ended? Sabin feared they would have to summon Legion, the tiny, blood-hungry demon who worshipped Aeron like a god and was the only one who could calm Aeron during his darker moods. Unfortunately, she was currently doing surveillance work for them in hell. Sabin liked to keep up-to-date on Underworld happenings. Knowledge was power and one never knew what one would be able to use.

Aeron suddenly slammed a fist into a Hunters temple, sending the human to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Sabin blinked at him. What was that for?

He was about to attack.

Doubtful, but just like that, Paris cut whatever invisible tether had been holding him in place and swooped through the rest of the huddle, methodically punching the Hunters until every single one of them was down.

That should keep them calm as Amun for the time being, he rasped darkly.

Sighing, Sabin switched his attention yet again. There was Strider, Defeat. The man couldnt lose at anything without enduring debilitating pain, so he made sure to win. Always. Which was probably why he was digging a bullet out of his side in preparation for the battle to come. Good. Sabin could always count on him.

Kane, keeper of Disaster, walked in front of him, ducking as a shower of pebbles fell from the ceiling, plumes of dust spraying in every direction. Several warriors coughed.

Uh, Kane, Sabin said. Why dont you stay here, too? You can help Reyes watch the prisoners. A flimsy excuse and they all knew it.

There was a pause, the only sound to be heard the scrape of stone against sand as the doorway continued that slow glide. Then Kane gave a clipped nod. He hated being left out, that much Sabin knew, but his presence sometimes caused more problems than it solved. And as always, Sabin placed victory above his friends feelings. It wasnt something he enjoyed doing, wasnt something hed do in any other situation. But someone had to act with cold-blooded logic or else theyd always lose.

With Kane out, that made the coming battle seven against seven. Totally even. Poor Hunters. They still didnt stand a chance. Anyone else want to stay behind?

A chorus of No circled the chamber, eagerness dripping from the different timbres. An eagerness Sabin shared.

Until Pandoras box was found, these skirmishes were a necessity. But it couldnt be found without those damn godly artifacts to show the way. And as one of the four relics was supposedly here in Egypt, this particular skirmish was more important than most. He would not allow Hunters to claim a single artifact, for that box could destroy Sabin and everyone he held dear, drawing the demons out of their bodies and leaving only lifeless shells.

Despite his confidence that he would win this day, he knew he would have to work for victory. Led as the Hunters were by Sabins sworn enemy, Galen, a demon-possessed immortal in disguise, those protectors of all that was good and right were privy to information humans should not have been privy to. Such as the best way to distract the Lordsthe best way to capture themthe best way to destroy them.

Finally the stone ceased sliding, and Amun peeked inside. He waved a hand to signal it was safe to enter. No one stepped forward. Sabins men and Luciens had only just resumed fighting together, having been separated for over a thousand years. They hadnt yet learned the best formation.

We going to do this or just stand here and wait for them to find us? Aeron grumbled. Im ready.

Look at you, all unenthusiastic and shit, Gideon said with a smirk. Im not impressed.

Time to take charge, Sabin mused. He considered the best strategy. These last few centuries hed gotten nowhere with the Hunters, rushing heedlessly into battle with only a single thought: kill. But the enemys numbers were growing, not shrinking, and to be honest, their determination and hatred were growing, as well. It was time for a new way of battle, of cataloging his resources and weaknesses before charging ahead.

Ill go first since Im the least injured. He curled his finger under the trigger of his gun before reluctantly sheathing it. I want you staggered, a less injured man paired with a more injured one. Youll work together, most injured acting as backup while the healthier takes out the target. Leave as many as you can alive, he commanded. I know you dont want to, that it goes against every instinct you possess. But dont worry. Theyll die soon enough. Once we ferret out the leaderand learn his secretstheyll be useless to us and you can do what you want to them.

The trio blocking his path broke apart, allowing him to sail inside the narrow hallway without pause, then everyone filed behind him, their footfalls offering only the slightest whisper. Battery-powered lamps illuminated the hieroglyph-covered walls. Sabin allowed his gaze to rest on those glyphs for only a second, but that was long enough to burn the images into his mind. They showed one prisoner after another being ushered to a cruel execution, hearts removed while they still beat inside their chests.

Human scents coated the stale, dusty air: cologne, sweat, an assortment of foods. How long had the Hunters been here? What were they doing here? Had they already found the artifact?

The questions skated through his mind, and his demon latched on to them. As Doubt, it couldnt help itself. Clearly they know something you do not. It might be enough to topple you. Your friends could very well take their last breaths this night.

Doubt could not lie, not without causing Sabin to pass out cold. It could only use derision and supposition to topple its victims. Hed never understood why a fiend from hell couldnt utilize deceitbest he could come up with was that the demon carried a curse of its ownbut hed long since accepted it. Not that hed allow himself to topple this night. Keep it up and Ill spend the next week sequestered in my bedroom, reading so I cant think too much.

But I need to feed, was the whined reply. The worry it caused was its greatest nourishment.

Soon.

Hurry.

Sabin held up his hand, stopped, and the warriors behind him stopped as well. There was a chamber up ahead, its doorway already open. The sound of voices and footsteps echoed, perhaps even the buzz of a drill.

The Hunters were indeed distracted and begging for an ambush. Im just the man to give it to them.

Are you, really? the demon began, Sabins threat unheeded. Last time I checked

Forget about me. Ive supplied you with food as promised.

There was a gleeful exclamation inside his head, and then Doubt was opening its mind to the Hunters inside the pyramid, whispering all manner of destructive thoughts. All for nothingwhat if youre wrongnot strong enoughcould soon die

Conversation tapered away. Someone might even have whimpered.

Sabin held up a finger, then another. When he raised the third, he and the warriors jumped into motion, a war cry echoing.

CHAPTER TWO

GWENDOLYN THE TIMID SHRANK against the far wall of her glass cell the moment the horde of too-tall, too-muscled, too-bloody warriors charged into the chamber shed both loved and hated for over a year. Loved, for being inside of it would have meant she was out of her cell, freedom a possibility. Hated, for all the torturous deeds that had taken place there. Deeds shed witnessed and feared.

The very men who had performed those deeds gave startled cries, dropping their Petri dishes, needles, vials and various tools. Glass shattered. Savage roars boomed, the intruders leaping forward with practiced menace, their arms slashing, their legs kicking. Down, down their targets fell. There was no question about who would win this fight.

Gwen trembled, unsure what would happen to her and the others when things settled. The warriors were clearly inhuman, like her, like all the women locked in the cells surrounding hers. They were too hard, too strong, too everything to be mortal. Exactly what they were, however, she didnt know. Why were they here? What did they want?

Shed known so many disappointments this last year that she didnt dare hope theyd come on a rescue mission. Would she and the others be left here to rot? Or would these men try and use them as the detestable humans had done?

Kill them! one of the captured shouted to the new warriors, the sound of her hard, angry voice causing Gwen to draw her arms around her middle. Make them suffer as we have suffered.

The glass that kept the women removed from the outside world was thick, impenetrable by fist or even bullet, yet every heartbreak inside the chamber and cells was a blast inside Gwens ears.

She knew how to block the noise, something her sisters had taught her to do as a young child, but she desperately wanted to hear her captors defeat. Their grunts of pain were like midnight lullabies to her. Soothing and sweet.

But strong as the warriors obviously were, they never once delivered a deathblow. Oddly, they merely wounded their prey, knocking them unconscious before focusing on the next opponent. And after what seemed too-short seconds but had probably been minutes, only one human was left standing. The worst of the lot.

One of the warriors stepped forward, approaching him. Though all the newcomers had possessed lethal skill, this one had fought the dirtiest, going for the groin, the throat. He raised his arm as if to render the final blow, but then Gwens wide-eyed gaze caught his and he paused. Slowly he lowered his arm.

Her breath caught. Brown hair soaked with blood was plastered to his head. His eyes were the color of brandy, deep and dark, and they, too, were threaded with crimson. Impossible. Surely she imagined the wild glow. His face, so roughly hewn it could only have been carved from granite, promised destruction in its every line and hollow, though there was something almostboyish about him. A startling contradiction.

His shirt had been slashed to ribbons, rope after rope of sun-kissed muscle visible every time he moved. Oh, the sun. How she missed it, craved it. A violet butterfly tattoo wrapped around his right rib cage and dipped into the waist of his pants. The points of its wings were razored, making it appear at once feminine and masculine. Why a butterfly? she wondered. Seemed odd that such a strong, vicious warrior would have chosen it. Whatever the reason, the mark somehow comforted her.

Help us, she said, praying the immortal could hear through soundproof glass as she could. But if he heard her, he gave no indication. Free us. Still no reaction.

What if they leave you here? Or worse, what if theyre here for the same reason as the humans?

The thoughts filled her head suddenly, and she frowned, perhaps even paled. The fears werent out of place; shed wondered the exact same things only a short while ago. But these were somehow differentforeign. They were not her own, not spoken in her own inner voice. Howwhat?

Sharp white teeth sank into the mans bottom lip as he clawed at his temples, clearly infuriated.

What if

Stop! he snarled.

The thought forming inside her head halted abruptly. She blinked in confusion. The warrior shook his head, scowl intensifying.

Distracted as the immortal clearly was, her human tormentor decided to act, closing the remaining distance between them.

Gwen straightened, calling, Look out!

Attention remaining fixed on Gwen, the granite-faced warrior reached out an arm and grabbed the human by the neck, choking and stopping him at the same time. The manChris was his nameflailed. He was young, perhaps twenty-five, but still leader of the guards and scientists here. He was also a man she despised more than captivity.

Everything I do, I do for the greater good, he was fond of saying, just before he raped one of the other women right in front of her. He could have artificially inseminated them, but had preferred the humiliation of forced intercourse. I wish this was you, he had often added. Every one of these females is a substitute for you.

Despite his desires, hed never touched her. He was too afraid of her. They all were. They knew what she was; theyd seen her in action the day they came for her. Unintentionally maul a few humans to death, and a girl gained a reputation, she supposed. Rather than eliminate her, however, theyd kept her, experimenting with different drugs in the ventilation system in the hopes of knocking her out long enough to use her. They hadnt yet succeeded, but they hadnt given up, either.