The Darkest Seduction - Джена Шоуолтер

The Darkest Seduction(Book 11 in the Lords of the Underworld series)A novel by Gena Showalter

Dear Reader,

At long last, Im pleased to bring you the story of Paris, keeper of the demon of Promiscuity. Yes, I finally feel as though Ive tortured him enough. After all, since the Lords of the Underworld were first introduced, Paris has

1) Lost the only woman he was able to bed more than once

2) Given up his chance to find her by choosing to save one of his friends instead

3) Formed an addiction to an illicit substance

4) Choked out any light of goodness inside himself

5) Turned into a war/fighting machine

His road to happily ever after has been paved with blood, sweat and tears. Mostly mine. Fine. Mostly his. Whatever. Semantics. Anyway, I knew he deserved something, and someone, special. In fact, I had an idea for him and sat down to write it. Four tries laterwith three hundred pages in the trashhe showed me exactly what he wanted. Okay, fine (again). I finally gave in and did things his way. And you know what? He got the special I wanted for him.

The characters had so much more depth than I expected, and as they interacted the puzzle pieces began to fall into placeI saw why he wanted what he wanted, and for the first time in a very long time I heard Paris laugh. (I heard this in my head, of course, but laughter is laughter.) Hed found his mine, and she was and is exactly what hes needed all along.

Will I ever stand in my characters way again? Well, yeah. (Hey, at least Im honest.) But this one time, giving in proved to be the best thing I could have done.

I hope you are as satisfied with Pariss story as he is.

All my best!

Gena Showalter

Throughout the years Ive learned that family matters. Ive been blessed with one of the most amazing families EVER. They love me, support me, and they are always there when I need them. The bond you see between the Lords, as well as the bond between the Harpy sisters? Thats what I have with my family, and I am beyond grateful. So this one is to my husband and children, my mom and dad, sisters and brothers, in-laws (who are so much more than that), nieces and nephews and crazy aunts and uncles. I love and adore you all!

Acknowledgments

From family to friends, I am blessed. To Jill Monroe, Kresley Cole and P.C. Cast. I love you, ladies!

PROLOGUE

HIS RAGE

I know.

High in the heavens, Zacharel watched the world below him. Watched as the once genial Paris murdered yet another of his enemy, the Hunters. How many victims that made in the past hour alone, the angel could not say. Hed long since lost count. And even if he paused to do the tally, the answer would have changed a second later as yet another body fell to the slick, blood-coated blades the warrior wielded.

Of course, the panting, sweat-soaked Paris spun to engage two others, his motions fluid, lethally gracefulas unstoppable as an avalanche. At first, he played. A punch, cracking bone. A kick, smashing lungs. Laughing, spouting the worst of curses. Soon none of that was enough for the demon-possessed soldier, and he danced his blades over the tendons in their ankles, hobbling his prey for easier elimination.

Paris had made himself Bait to purposely draw these Hunters to him. Theyd come eagerly, happily, intending to steal the vile demon tethered inside him and finally end him. So Zacharel could not fault the warrior for what he did to defend himself, even as several new bodies joined the already mountainous pile enveloped by a sea of crimson and black. And yet, he could not commend the warrior, either.

These were not mercy slayings or even carried out in the name of a cold and calculated vengeance birthed in the bowels of an equally cold rage. No, these were a spew of fire, hate and desperation hotter than anything hell had ever created.

He is like a poisoned apple, Zacharel said to the angel beside him. And because Paris was bonded to the demon of Promiscuity, his pruning belonged not to the humans he lived amongst but to the Deitys angels, who policed different realms of evil. Poison of this nature spreads slowly but corrupts absolutely.

Beads of ice fell around Zacharel, as they always fell around him these days, his breath misting in front of his face. Every crystal was to be a reminder of his own crimes, so recently brought to his attention. But unlike Paris, he did not wear misery like a winter coat, hugging it close to his body, relying on it, feeding it, helping it grow. Zacharel cared for nothing, not anymore.

In his quest to destroy the demons that had ruined his life, he had slain innocent humans, and this was to be his punishmentto carry his Deitys displeasure with him always.

As succulent as others consider this particular apple, Lysander proclaimed, they will be willing to taste anything he offers.

Zacharel moved his gaze to the man who had taught him how to survive on the battlefield. The elite warrior was a muscled tower of unwavering strength. He wore a long white robe, his majestic wings like rivers of molten gold. Zacharels ice raged around him, too, though not a single flake dared land on the man. Perhaps, like myriad other creatures, the crystals feared himand rightly so. In their world, he was judge and jury, his word law.

Do we remove temptation? Zacharel asked. For centuries he had acted as Lysanders executioner.

I will not order his assassination, no, Lysander said, resolute. At the moment, Paris is redeemable.

Unexpected. Even with the great distance between the heavens and the earth, Zacharel could hear the grunts and groans Paris elicited, the screams of his enemies. The pleas for mercy that would echo into eternity, forever unheeded. And as determined as this Lord of the Underworld was, this was only the beginning.

What will you have me do, then?

Paris searches for his woman, intending to free her from the Titan kings enslavement. You will aid him, protect him and protect the girl. The moment her ties to Cronus are cut, however, you will bring her here, where she will live out the rest of eternity.

Even more unexpected. The command smacked of leniency, something Lysander had shown to only one other demon-possessed immortal in all the millennia of his life: Amun, Pariss friend. And only because Bianka, Lysanders Harpy mate, had asked.

She must have requested this second favor, as well, for it was widely known that Lysander was powerless against her wiles. But even a besotted groom, tasked as he was with governing the heavens, responsible for all that transpired there, should not have asked another angel to do this deed. Aid a demon? Bring another here to live? Horrifying.

Zacharel offered no objection. And despite the fact that he had never experienced desire himself, he would do his best to cure Paris of his so that, when the inevitable break with the female came, the warrior would not return to his rage.

Paris will protest her loss. After everything the warrior had done to find and save her already, everything he would soon dooh, yes, he would protestusing those dripping blades to make his case.

You must convince him that he will be better off without her, Lysander said.

Will he be?

Of course. There was no hesitation in the pronouncement, lending it an edge of fiery truth. An unnecessary edge, for Zacharel knew Lysander would not, could not, lie.

And if I fail to convince him? He had to ask, needed the penalty riding heavy on his shoulders, driving him to succeed.

Eyes of pitiless navy frosted over, revealing the iron depths of Lysanders warrior core. We are lost, for the greatest war the world has ever known now brews. The girl will lead us to our victoryor our enemy to theirs. Its as simple as that.

Very well, then. When the time came, Zacharel would take her. No matter how Paris was affected.

Paris would hate him, and would, perhaps, do more than rage. There was no stopping that, not when so much darkness swirled inside him, a rot in his soul, far worse than any spiritual poison. But that wouldnt stop Zacharel from fulfilling his duty.

Nothing would.

CHAPTER ONE

PARIS TOSSED BACK THREE fingers of Glenlivet and signaled the bartender. He wanted an entire hand and by right or might, hed have it. Except soon after the single malt was poured, he realized an entire hand wasnt going to cut it, either. Fury and frustration were living entities inside him, frothing and bubbling despite his recent fighting.

Leave the bottle, he said when the bartender made a move to help someone else. Hell, suddenly Paris doubted every drop of alcohol in a ten-mile radius would do the trick, but hey. Desperate times.

Sure, sure. Anything you say. Shirtless Boy Wonder released the bottle and beat feet.

What? He looked that dangerous? Please. Hed washed off the blood, hadnt he? Wait. Hadnt he? He looked down. Shit. He hadnt. Crimson streaked him from head to toe.

Whatever. He wasnt in a human bar, so no authorities would have a beef with him. He was in Olympus, though the heavenly kingdom had recently been renamed Titania. Once only gods and goddesses had been allowed here, but when Cronus reclaimed the realm, hed changed things, allowing vampires, fallen angels and other creatures of the dark to come and play. A nice little screw you to the previous king, Zeus.

Call the bartender back, Promiscuity said. I want him.

Promiscuitythe demon trapped inside him, driving him. Irritating him. Remember when I wanted fidelity? Monogamy? Paris replied in his mind. Well, we dont always get what we want, do we?

A familiar growl sounded in his head.

Whaa, whaa, pout, pout. He downed the second alcoholic offering and quickly chased it with a third. Both scorched so good he enjoyed a fourth. The potent alcohol razed his chest, burned holes in his abdomen, and flooded his veins. Nice.

And yet, his emotions remained as dark as ever, the edges of that bone-deep fury and frustration unsmoothed. His inability to save a not-so-innocent woman he should hatedid hate, at least a littlebut also hungered for, body and soul, drove him, a constant whip against his flank.

If I asked you to leave, would you? a monotone voice said from beside him. A voice accompanied by a blast of arctic air.

He didnt have to look to know that Zacharel, warrior angel extraordinaire and infamous demon-assassin, had just joined him. Theyd met not long ago, when the feathered axman had come to Buda to off Pariss friend Amun. Had old Zach actually succeeded, two crystal blades would have been drilling into his spine at that very moment.

I want him, the demon said.

Screw you.

Finally. Were on the same page.

Really hate you right now.

Once upon a time, the demon had spoken to Paris with annoying frequency. Then the stupid sex fiend had stopped, merely urging Paris to bed this person or that person, no matter their gender or Pariss own feelings toward them. Now, the talking had started up again and it was worse than before, because he wanted everyone, especially the ones Paris felt no desire for.

Well? the angel prompted.

Leave, when I had to beg Lucien to bring me here and I know he wont be so accommodating next time? No, but Id damn sure want to know why you gave a crap about my location.

I do not care about your location.

True story. Zacharel didnt care about anything, a fact you learned real fast in your dealings with him. Thats my point, so get lost.

As Paris nursed a fifth whiskey, he studied the smoke-stained mirror in front of him, covertly panning the area behind him. Bejeweled chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were rose-colored marble, veined with glittering ebony, the floor a sparkling stretch of crushed diamonds.

Throughout the room, men and women talked and laughed. From minor gods and goddesses to fallen angels trying to work their way back into their saintly fold. Good luck with that in a bar. Morons. Anyway. There was probably a demon or two sprinkled among the masses, but Paris couldnt tell for sure.

Demons were as sneaky as they were evil. They could skulk around in their own scales, proudly showcasing their horns, claws, wings and tailsand getting decapitated by warrior angels like Zach. Or they could possess someone elses body and skulk around in their skin.

Paris had thousands of years of experience with the latter.

I will leave, as you so succinctly suggested, Zacharel said, after you answer another question for me.

All right. Something else Paris knew from experience: angels were freakishly stubborn. Better to hear the guy out, otherwise hed find himself with a new shadow. He turned, facing the dark-haired stunner with eyes the color of jade, and sucked in a breath. Never ceased to amaze him, how magnetic these celestial beings were. No matter their genderor how mind-numbingly dull their personalitiesthey drew and held your attention, every damn time. For some reason, Zacharel did so with more intensity than most.

But the magnetism wasnt what caught Pariss attention this time. Majestic wings arced over the angels broad shoulders, a turbulent fall of winter clouds with streams of gold winding and curling throughout, snowflakes raining from the tips like glitter in a globe.

Youre snowing. Captain Obvious, thats me.

Yes.

Why?

I can answer you, or I can ask my question and leave. Dressed in the long white robe that was customary for his kind, Zacharel should have looked innocent and prissy. Instead, he looked like the Grim Reapers evil twin: emotionless, as frigid as the snow he shed and ready to kill. Your choice.

No thought necessary. Ask.

Do you wish to die? Zacharel said it as simply as hed said everything else, mist crystallizing in front of his mouth, creating a dreamlike haze and reminding Paris of the breath of life. Or death.

Definitely ready to kill, Paris mused. What do you think? he asked, because honestly? He didnt know the answer anymore.

For centuries hed fought to live, but now, now he constantly threw himself into the fire and waited to be burned. Liked being burned. What kind of sick prick had he become?

Unflinching, the angel held his gaze. I think you want one particular woman more than you want anyoneor anythingelse. Even deatheven life.

Paris pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. One woman in particular: the not-so-innocent one.

Her name was Sienna Blackstone. Once a Hunter and always his enemy, for Hunters were an irritating army of humans who hoped to rid the world of Pandoras demons. Then fleetingly, shed been his lover. Then dead, gone. Then shed been brought back from the grave, her soul merged with the demon of Wrath. Now, she was out there. Somewhere. And she was suffering. Cronus had enslaved her, thinking to use her demon to punish his adversaries, and now that hed lost control of her, he thought to torture her into submission.

Paris might dislike the things Sienna had done to him, and yeah, as hed already admitted, part of him might even hate the woman herself, but even she did not deserve the cruel, viciouseternalpunishment being meted out.

I will find her, and I will save her. From Cronusfrom himself. Right now, Paris simply couldnt get past the fact that she was suffering. Once that part of the equation was dealt with, he would stop thinking about her. He had to stop thinking about her.

So I want her, he ended up saying to the angel. Sienna was not up for discussion. BFD.

I will pretend I know what that means. Zacharel shook his wings, more of that pure, glistening snow raining down. As for you, I think that, despite your own desires, your demon wants anything with a pulse.

Sometimes even a pulse isnt a requirement, he muttered, and damn if that wasnt the truth. Sex, as hed taken to calling his dark companion, wanted anyone and everyonebut only ever once. With the exception of Sienna, Sex would not allow Paris to harden for the same person twice.

Why could he have Sienna again? No damn clue. But again, so?

I think, even though you crave this particular woman, you slept with your friend Striders future wife. He is the demon of Defeat, and your actions made his courtship of the Harpy very difficult.

Hey. Youre entering dangerous territory here. Not that Paris had anything to apologize for.

The one-nighter had happened weeks before Strider and Kaia hooked up. Or had even thought about hooking up. Therefore, Paris had done nothing wrong. Technically. And yet, he now knew what Kaia looked like naked, and Strider knew that he knew, and that meant all three of them knew Sex tossed out naked images of the girl every time they were together. A consequence Paris loathed, but couldnt stop.

Zacharels dark head tilted to the side in a reflective pose, all the more mysterious because of the mist that continued to form with his every exhalation. I meant only to point out that you have clearly moved on to other conquests and that you are hardly discriminating in your choices, which makes me wonder why you still pursue your Sienna.

Because Sienna had been Pariss one and only shot at monogamy. Because hed inadvertently brought about her death. Because hed felt like he lost everything when she died.

Youre annoying, he snapped. And Im done talking to you.

Still the angel persisted. I think you feel guilty about every heart you break, every dream of happily-ever-after you crush, and every bit of self-loathing you encourage when your partners realize how effortlessly you overcame their reservations. I also think you are overindulged and pathetic, and that you have no business crying about your problems.

Hey! Ive never cried. Paris slammed his glass on the counter with so much force the bar split down the center and the cup shattered. Blood welled from the slices in his palm, but the sting was minimal. And you know what? I think you are seconds away from finding pieces of your body scattered in all the corners of this bar.

Then, while hes down, we can have him!

Zip it, Sex.

Uh, here you go, the bartender said, Johnny-on-the-spot with a clean rag he thrust in Pariss direction. His arm shook. He was still afraid of Paris.

I want

I said zip it! Thanks, man. Paris fisted the material, applying pressure to the slivers of torn tissue before anyone could scent him and the oh-so-special pheromones his demon excreted.

One whiff of the intoxicating aroma, and everyone around him would become unforgivably aroused, uncaring about where they were or who they were with. Mostly their hunger would be for Paris, and though that would have been an especially craptastic outcome tonight considering he was operating under a time crunch, he would have enjoyed rebuffing the males with his fists.

Exceptthe pheromones never enveloped him. He frowned. Sex wanted everyone hed spotted tonight. Why not take advantage of his ability and force the patrons to want him back?

Paris returned his focus to Zacharel, wondering if the angel was somehow responsible.

Those eyes of the rarest jade narrowed to tiny slits. I think you hope to save your Sienna, and that is a good thing. I think you mean to keep her, and that is not. No matter how intensely you crave her, no matter that she might be your only chance at forever, your demon will eventually ruin her, for humans were never meant to battle demons, and at heart, she is still a human.

What about her own demon? he snapped.

If one is bad, two is surely worse.

Enough! If they continued on this path, his fury and frustration would rise up and consume him. He would lose sight of tonights goal. Im not going to keep her. He would. He so would if given a chance, and if she would have him, of course, but hell, she wouldnt have him.

Good. Because this particular woman would not like the man you have become.

Snorting, Paris shoved his free hand through his hair. She didnt like who I was. And now, after hed irrevocably stepped over the line between right and wrong? Please.

Hed known his actions were reprehensible, and hed stepped over anyway. Hed killed, callously. Seduced, methodically. Lied, cheated and betrayed. All of which he would do again and again.

Yet you still rush to save her, Zacharel said.

Yeah. He was as big a moron as the fallen who frequented this place. Whatever. He knew. Didnt care. Look, I dont answer to you. I dont have to explain myself. And whats with all the questions? You said you only had one more.

I have asked only the one. The rest have been observations, and I have one more of those to offer. Zacharel leaned into him and whispered, I think, if you continue on this destructive path, you will lose everything you have come to love.

Is that a threat? Paris fisted the collar of the angels robe. Go ahead and try something, winger. See what

Air. He was fisting and yelling at air.

Little growls sprang from his throat as he lowered his arm to his side. The only reason he knew Zacharel had been here was the temperature of his hands. They were practically frostbitten.

Uh, who were you talking to? the bartender asked, faux casual as he cleaned an already clean counter.

If an angel didnt want to be seen, an angel wouldnt be seen. Not even by his brethren, fallen or otherwise. So only Paris had seen Zacharel this go-round. Great. Myself apparently, and we prefer to chat without an audience.

Was Zacharel still here? Paris wondered. Or had he materialized somewhere else? And what was the purpose of all that talk of Paris needing to stay away from Sienna? The angel shouldnt care.

Paris dropped the rag and turned the rest of the way to face the crowd. Several warriors were scowling in his directionwhy?dangerously close to ruining the rooms elegance with the blood they were tempting Paris to spatter. He massaged the back of his neck, forcing thoughts of Zacharel and his threat into hiding. He had bigger and badder to deal with. He was here for Viola, the minor goddess of the Afterlife and keeper of the demon of Narcissism. She should have popped in already.

Maybe shed heard he was coming and bailed, and if that was the case he couldnt blame her. He and his friends had once stolen and opened Pandoras box, unleashing the evil from inside. As punishment, they were cursed to host the demons theyd released within themselves. Unfortunately, thered been more demons than naughty boys and girls to contain them, and when the box had disappeared in the chaos, the leftover evil spirits had needed homes. What better recipients for the Greeks to select than the unlucky, unable-to-run inmates of OlympussTitaniasimmortal prison, Tartarus?

So, yeah, Paris was partly responsible for Violas dark side. Shed been one of those unlucky prisoners. He wasnt entirely responsible, though, considering the girl was a criminal once considered dangerous enough to be forcibly kept away from the very gods and goddesses who were often praised in mythology books for their most vicious deeds.

What crime Viola had committed, he didnt know and didnt care. She could slash him to ribbons, as long as she gave up the information he craved. The final puzzle piece needed to at last save Sienna.

According to the Hunters hed slain just this morning, Viola came here every Friday night to hustle immortals at pool and rave about her awesomeness over a few beers. Apparently, said Hunters had been watching her, intent on nabbing her and persuading her to join their ranks. So, in a way, she kinda owed him.

Where the hell is she? he wondered again, searching for the telltale long blond hair, eyes the color of cinnamon and a killer body that could

Appear in a puff of white smoke.

There, in front of the bars only entrance, stood a luscious woman with long blond hair and eyes the color of cinnamon. Paris straightened, his nerve endings zinging with anticipation. Just like that. Prey located. Target acquired.

CHAPTER TWO

I WANT HER, SEX SAID as Paris studied Viola.

Of course you do, he replied dryly.

The tendrils of smoke that had marked Violas appearance now curled away from her, thinning out to reveal a slinky black dress. The thick straps on her shoulders veed to frame heavy cleavage before dipping past her pierced navel. The micromini skirt stopped just below the hem of her panties.

Was she even wearing panties?

Paris yawned. Hed been with gorgeous women, ugly women, and everything in between. One lesson hed quickly learned: beauty could hide a beast, and a beast could hide a beauty.

Sienna belonged to the beauty-hiding-a-beast categoryat least to him. While hed been crazed with desire for her, shed been plotting his downfall. And maybe he was as bad as his demon because part of him found even that side of her sexy. A reed-thin female had bested a battle-hardened warrior, and he thought that was hot as hell.

And okay, yeah, she considered herself plain and maybe once he would have agreed, but from the beginning, thered been something tantalizing about her. Something that drew him, held him captive. Now, anytime he pictured her, he saw a flawless gem with no equal.

Concentrate. A command from the demon, who still wanted the minor goddess, and a reprimand from himself.

Viola flipped the length of her silky hair over one sun-kissed shoulder and scouted her surroundings. Men openly gaped. Women tried to hide their jealousy with (unconvincing) blank masks. She paused on Paris, looked him up and down, her lids narrowing, and then, shockingly, she dismissed him and continued her visual sweep.

The last time his demon had failed to attract a potential bedmate, hed met Sienna shortly thereafter. Could that meanwhat if His anticipation intensified until his bones vibrated. He would get his answerstonightno matter what was required of him.

He closed in on Viola, schooling his features to reveal only admiration as he went over his plan. Charm first, if he could actually remember how to be charming. Force second, and yeah, he definitely remembered how to go that route.

Ignoring his approach, Viola bent down and slid a glittery pink phone from inside her black leather boot. Moans of approval erupted behind her, and men high-fived each other, as if theyd just received a glimpse of heaven. Even immortals could be childish. Never me. Unaware or unconcerned, she danced her nimble fingers over the phones tiny keyboard.

Paris frowned. What are you doing?

As an opener, the question totally blew, as did his accusing tone. But if she thought to summon help, someone to fight him, or even a Hunter to kill him, shed soon find herself his hostage, as well as his informant.

Im Screeching. Thats the immortal version of twittering or tweeting or whatever you lower beings want to call it, she said without glancing up. Ive got over seven bazillion followers.

O-kay. Not what hed expected. Hed spent a lot of time with humans, and knew they enjoyed sharing their every inane thought with the world. But a Titan who did sothat was new.

What are you telling them? Was Cronus among the seven bazillion? Was Galen, the head honcho of the Hunters? And how many was a bazillion?

I maybe might be kinda sorta telling them all about you. A grin lifted the corners of her plump red lips as she continued type, type, typing. Lord of Sex is filthy and looking to score. Im not interested, but should I help him rack up points with someone else? Send. She focused those haunting auburn eyes on him. Ill let you know when the results come in. Until then, is there anything else you want to know about me before I walk away and ignore you?

Lord of Sex, shed said. Sooo. She knew who he was, what he was, but she wasnt running from him, wasnt tossing insults at him and wasnt screaming for his execution. A great start. Yes, there is, and its a private matter very important to me. Subtext: dont you dare Screech about it!