Ohhh. I love private, important matters that Im not supposed to talk about but do, because Im such a giver. Im listening.
Despite her convoluted confession that she meant to tattle, there was no more typing. Good. He proceeded. I want to see the dead. How do I make that happen? Sienna was a soul without a bodya soul he couldnt sense in any way. Only those who communed with the dead could see, hear and touch her. But rumor was, Viola knew a trick that rendered the ability unnecessary.
She blinked, and he noticed that her lashes were painted a glittery pink to match her phone. Let me tell you what I just heard. Talk, talk, talk, I. Talk, talk, talk, I. Well, what about me?
His jaw clenched. There was being charming, and there was being a sucker. He wasnt a sucker. Well, not all the time. Ill tell you about you. You can see the dead. Now youre going to teach me how to see them. An order she would do well to heed.
Her nose wrinkled. Why do you care about seeing souls? If theyre still here, theyre causing trouble andoh, oh, wait. Clap, clap, jump, jump, twirl. Ive already figured this little mystery out because Im highly intelligent. You want to see your slain human lover.
Instantly his fury flashed to the surface, hot enough to blister. He didnt like anyone speaking of Sienna in any fashion. Not Zacharel, and certainly not this strange minor goddess with a penchant for gossiping. Sienna was his to protect, even in that capacity. I
Tsk, tsk. No need to confirm my genius assumption. Viola patted his cheek, all syrupy sweetness for his mental handicap. Especially since I cant help you.
She tried to walk away.
He caught her wrist. Cant or wont? There was a big difference. The first he could do nothing about. The second he could change, and if she pushed him, she would discover the lengths he was willing to go to, to do just that.
Wont. See ya. Oblivious to the rage she threatened to unleash, she jerked from his hold and practically skipped to the back of the bar, her perfect ass swaying, the heels of her boots clicking.
Incensed, he followed her, shoving aside anyone who got in his way. Grunts, groans and growls abounded, the predators in the crowd taking exception to his brute-force tactics. No one attempted to stop him, however. They sensed a far greater predator in their midst.
How do you know who I am? he demanded the moment he reached Viola. Theyd start there and work their way to the mind changing, just in case one was dependent on the other.
She performed another twirl, making a production of it, as if she were a model at the end of a runway. He was a tall man used to towering over women, but Viola was a tiny fluff of five feet nothing and he dwarfed her.
Sienna, on the other hand, was just the right height. Standing, or on his knees, or lying down, hed reach all the best parts of her, no problem.
I know everything there is to know about the Lords of the Underworld, Viola said. I made the entire horde of you my business when I escaped Tartarus and learned you were responsible for my condition.
She did blame him for the demon shed been stuck with, then. And she smelled of roses, he realized with a jolt, the gentle scent suddenly clinging to his sinuses, very nearly drowning him in a warm sense of peace.
Lucien, the keeper of the demon of Death, could do the same thing to his enemies, calming them just before he struck a life-ending blow.
Pariss fury and frustration quickly chased that peacefulness away. Stop that.
Wow, thats a dark scowl. And not a very good look for you, I must say, she added, then caught a glimpse of her coral-painted fingernails and studied them in the light. So pretty.
Touch her.
He tuned out his demon and decided hed give the charm/sucker thing one more shot. Because, honestly? He had yet to intimidate this female in any way. If this next attempt failed, he would let loose his beast in full forceand he wasnt talking about Sex. There was darkness inside him now, so much darkness, and that darkness would drive him to do what was necessary, no matter how vile.
He had no one but himself to blame, for hed opened himself up to it. Just a fraction at first, like a crack in a window. But the funny thing was, once you welcomed in a breeze, there was no stopping what came next. A wind, a storm, thunder and lightning, until you could no longer reach the window to close itand didnt really want to anyway. Thats what this new darkness was. Evil in its purest form, an entity very much like Sex, urging him on.
Lie, cheat, betray, Paris thought. Here, now, like all the other times before.
He leaned down, softening his expression, forcing his demons desires to seep through his pores. Forcing his blood to heat and the musky scent of arousal to drift from him, as sultry as champagne, as heady as chocolate. If Sex wouldnt use those pheromones, Paris would. He hated doing this, because, like everyone else, both he and Sex became mindless, flesh-hungry beings at the first whiff. Worse, the memories of what he forced people to doto crave
Viola, sweetness. Talk to me. Tell me what I wish to know. His tone was a sensual caress, blissful and sure, and yet, even with the pheromones affecting Paris, he wanted only one woman and Viola wasnt her.
I meant to thank you for my demon, she went on, as if hed never spoken. As if he did not currently smell like pleasure walking. Hes the best! But then halfway to Budapest to track down your fortress, I forgot all about you. Im sure you understand. She fluffed her hair, looking away from him as she waved to someone at her right. So, anyway, now that youre here, thanks. Feel free to relay that to the others. Now youll have to Argh! Who put a mirror there? she ended in a screech.
Undiluted rage blazed from her expression for a single heartbeat, followed by rapturous ecstasy as she studied her reflection.
Look at me. She angled one way, posed, then angled another and posed again. Im gorgeous.
Viola. Seconds passed, but she never stopped admiring herself. She even blew herself a kiss. Fine. Theyd do this the other way. I can make you beg for my touch, Viola. In front of everyone. And believe me, you will beg. You will cry, but relief will never be yours. Ill make sure of it. But do you know what else? Thats not even the worst of what Ill do to you.
Several seconds ticked by, but she never offered a reply.
Fury
Frustration
Darknessrising He wanted to strike, to hurt, to kill.
He inhaled, held, heldsmelled an infusion of rosesreleased the breath. Okay. Good. This time he was able to allow both emotion bombs to fizzle before detonation, calming him.
Perhaps Viola couldnt help herself, he realized suddenly. As he knew very well, all of Pandoras demons came with a major flaw. This could be hers. She was Narcissism, after all, a lover of self.
Testing his theory, he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the mirror. Her entire body stiffened. Her gaze darted left and right, as if searching for interlopers who might have tried to harm her while shed been incapacitated. No one had approached, and the tension drained from her. She breathed easier.
I will gut the culprit! she whispered fiercely.
Bingo. Her flaw, and one she clearly reviled.
Concentrate on me, Viola. He gripped her by the shoulders, squeezing harder than hed intended and shaking her until those cinnamon eyes rose to meet his. Tell me what I want to know and youll walk away from this unscathed.
Still not the least bit intimidated, she shrugged off his hold. So impatient. I should be used to it by now, but alas. Men falling all over mestill a burden.
Viola!
Fine. Lets see what my worshippers have to say sooner rather than later, shall we? She lifted her phone and read the screen. Four hundred and eighty-five votes for Help him by giving him my number. Two hundred and seven votes for Are you stupid, climb him like a mountain, and one hundred and twenty-three votes for Hes mine, bitch, walk away. She looked up at him, another smile taking root. The little people have spoken. Yes, I will tell you about the souls.
Urgency overrode his relief. Tell me, then. Now.
Hey, you. Demon scum. The harsh voice rang out from behind him.
Annnd one of the guys Paris had bumped into earlier was finally acting out. Paris ground his molars. His hands returned to the females shoulders. Viola. Tell me. She would tell him, and he would leave, finally beginning his search in truth.
Get your hands off my female!
Or not. Unleashed aggression dripped from the males tone, and the need for violence quickly resurfaced inside Paris.
Restrain yourself, common sense counseled. Victory is within reach. A friend of yours?
I have no friends. Graceful fingers reached up and hooked several tendrils of hair behind her ear. Only admirers.
Im talking to you, demon. The male again.
Need risinghigher and highera thick black cloud that would not dissipate until blood ran in rivers at his feet. If you want this admirer to survive, flash us out of here. Popping from one location to another with only a thought always made him sick, but sick was better than distracted.
I dont, she said. Want him to survive, that is.
Are you listening to me, demon? The tone was harsher, and far more determined. Move away from her and face me. Or are you a coward?
The cloud enveloped his mind, a single thought suddenly consuming him. The male was an obstacle in his path, blocking him from Sienna, and obstacles were to be eliminated. Always.
Another small voice of reason whispered through him, a beacon of gold amid an endless stretch of midnight. Zacharel Current path Destruction
Look at yourself in the mirror, goddess, the male commanded. I dont want you to see what I do to the demon.
Even as a curse tore from her mouth, Viola obeyed, angling around Paris as if she couldnt help herself and hated herself for it. Just like that, she was once again enraptured by her own image, pinkie-waving and blowing kisses.
The golden whisper was destroyed. Death became inevitable. Paris pivoted on his heels to glare at his opponent.
Soon, blood would flow.
CHAPTER THREE
PARIS HAD GOTTEN ONE FACT wrong. He didnt have an opponent. He had opponents. The knowledge caused a heady rush of eagerness to flood him. The day just kept getting better. Earlier hed slain a handful of Hunters, and this hours selectionaka dessertwas a trio of fallen angels, each one bigger than the last. They were without shirtsthe new fashion?their scarred backs visible in the mirror at the top of the wall.
The frothing trio formed a solid wall of muscle on the other side of the bar, their arms crossed over their chests, their legs braced apart to evenly distribute their weight. A classic Im-about-to-hurt-someone stance.
I want them, Sex said, as if that were some big surprise.
You will not walk away, he warned the men. Lately, he couldnt afford to leave survivors. They had a nasty habit of returning for revenge.
Ive seen you around, the one on the left said. You smile and women fall at your feet, but Im gonna change that when I rip your spine out of your mouth. Then Im gonna tell your enemies where you are. Yeah, I know who you are, Lord of Sex. I also know the Hunters want the privilege of killing you.
The one on the right flashed a grin, total Ive-lost-my wings-and-Im-glad evil. Yeah. I like that idea. Maybe Ill sign up with them, just to watch what they do to you when were finished, you dirty
The one in the middle, the biggest one, placed a hand on Righties shoulder, silencing him. He had a bright white halo tattooed around his neck. That could mean he was only recently fallen, that he still had ties with the angels or that he liked to reminisce. Whatever. He would experience the same fate as his friends. Less words, more pain.
Yes, more pain, Paris agreed. He unsheathed his two favorite daggers, the clear, crystal blades glinting like rainbows in the light.
Hey, no arsenals allowed inside, the bartender bellowed. Only fists.
The entire bar stopped and quieted, clearly intent on watching.
Feel free to try and pry mine from my grip. That would mean more opponents, more bloodshed. More satisfaction.
Unfair advantage, someone else called.
Exactly. If you werent cheating, you werent trying. But, all right. Even lost to the decadent taste of violence as he was, Paris knew how to pretend to play nice. He commanded the blades to vanish from view while still remaining in his hands. Magical as they were, they obeyed.
I dont care what weapons you use, Halo said.
You shouldnt have come here. Leftie unfolded his arms. This is our territory, and were taking it back.
Now, well make sure you never return. Rightie fisted his hands, cracking his knuckles. This is gonna be fun.
Fun. Yes. For me. Paris approached.
The trio approached.
All four met in the middle. The moment Paris was within reach, he kicked Leftie while punching Rightie. Leftie hunched over, gasping for breath. Rightie died. Paris had punched with his invisible blade, sinking hilt-deep into the bastards carotid.
One down. Two to go.
Halo swung a meaty fist, but the low, straight line Paris had made with his body caused the former winger to encounter only air, the momentum spinning him around. By the time Paris jerked upright, Leftie had regained his stamina and jumped on him, attempting to rip out his trachea with claws that hadnt been there a moment ago. Through dumb luck or talent, Leftie managed to angle his wrist when he realized Paris was shifting position, hitting the tendon that ran from neck to shoulder instead. There was a brutal rending before Paris shoved him off, the bastard taking hunks of skin and muscle with him.
Paris didnt release him, though. He held on tight, even as Halo got back in the game and hammered at his face. He stabbed Leftie with a quick jab, jab. Kidneys first, to shock and disable. Heart second, to kill. Leftie died just like his friend.
Two down. One to go.
Paris released the now-lifeless body, heard the thump as it landed. Grinned. All the while, Halo continued to whale on him. Crack, crack. Pain in his eye, pain in his lip. Blood cascaded down his chin, stars winked through his vision, and Sex retreated to a hidden corner in his mind. Each new point of contact threw him backward into tables, knocking down glasses, chairs and people.
Finally he managed to dodge one of those fists. He regained his balance and spun low, intending to slash Halo in the back of the knee and hobble him. But the once heavenly being was used to dirty demon tricks and spun as well, darting out of the way just before contact.
An arms length away from each other now, they straightened and glared. Paris had yet to land a single blow on the man. He wanted to land a blow. Would land a blow. Then, when Halo was immobilized, Paris would slice him from navel to neck.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of alabaster, a ripple of molten gold amid the feathers of an angelic warrior, and the snow that had become Zacharels closest companion.
The man desires his woman as you desire yours. You would punish him for that?
The words drifted through Pariss mind, rays of light scented with hope. To his shock, the darkness thinned and he thought, No, I dont want to punish a man for going after the woman he craves. Even if Im the obstacle he faces.
Ill probably regret this, Paris said, gripping the invisible blade hilts tighter, just in case, but Im willing to let you leave. This is a one-time offer. Leave and live. Thats it. No negotiation.
Halo scowled, his chin lifting, dark gaze narrowing. Whatever his name, there was no denying his punk-rocker appeal. His hair had been dyed the same pink as Violas phone and lashes. Tears of blood were inked at the corners of his eyes. A ring of steel protruded from the center of his lower lip. Im not leaving. Shes mine, and I will not allow you to have her, to use and discard her when you finish with her.
Everything always came back to that, Paris thought, disgusted with himself and his demons need for sex. But then, the guy had said the one thing guaranteed to demolish his no-negotiation boast, so theyd try this a different way. Does Viola want you in return?
A hiss of fury. She will.
Same thing Paris had once thought about Sienna. Still did, if he were being honest. He hoped that there was something he could do or say that would change her mind about him and she would come around, want him the way he wanted her.
Did the fallen angel have a chance at success? Did he? Females were the most stubborn creatures ever created.
Just so you know, I dont want Viola. He stepped to the left, again and again until they were circling each other, every second bringing Paris back to the man he used to be: honorable, concerned, valiant. This wouldnt last, he knew, but he ran with it while he could.
You lie! Halos nostrils flared with the force of his inhalation. I, who never before craved a woman, could not resist her. Everyone wants her.
Again, not me. Im here for info that will help me save my woman. Thats it.
A heavy pause as Halo flexed and unflexed his fingers, debating the truth of Pariss claim.
Circle, circle. Information only, Paris reiterated. I swear.
No. He gave an abrupt shake of that pink head, his stubbornness a rival to that of a female. I do not believe you. You carry the evil nature of a demon. You wont be able to help yourself. You will lust after her, take advantage of her. Bed her.
No, he wouldnt. He was too close to Sienna, and he would wait for her as long as he could and survive. Fine. So maybe the truth washe might. Survival had caused him to do terrible things. Maybe he should point out that Viola carried a demon, too. But then, Halo was past the point of thinking logically.
Paris sighed, the darkness rising again. We finish this, then.
Paris
No! he gritted, blocking Zacharels voice from his head. I tried your way. It didnt work.
He and Halo leapt at each other, meeting in the middle. Just as before, those meaty fists hammered at Paris. While the beating felt like stampeding demon hooves on his face, Halos midsection was left wide-open. But rather than take the kill stabs as Paris had done with the otherssome of Zacharels light must have stuck around after allhe swept his arm low and sliced into Halos thigh, barely nicking his femoral.
Still the beating continued to rain, the fallen never registering the fact that he was going to bleed out if he didnt leave and stitch himself up. Arms swinging, legs kicking, they fell into a table, toppled to the ground, rolled. Broken glass cut at Pariss arms, his back. He landed several searing blows, accidentally slicing with his blades, until finally he sent Halo stumbling backward, out of range.
Halo stood, gasping for breath as he stepped forward once, twice. Then he stopped and frowned with confusion. At last his knees gave out. He dropped like a stone in the ocean. His once-tanned skin blanched to an unnatural chalk-white, his tattoos dimming. His eyes were suddenly fever-bright.
Fallen angels did not heal like immortals. They healed like humans: slowly. Or not at all.
Youyou
Won. Done, done and done. All three were felled. Get some help, and you should recover just fine.
But you Incredulity bathed Halos punk-rocker features. You won through cheating. That was a blade I felt. Multiple times!
Hate to break it to you, big boy, but cheating happens a lot. You might want to try it yourself. Besides, you said you didnt care what weapons I used.
There was muttering behind him.
Paris raised his arms and spun in slow motion. The crowd had yet to disperse, more concerned with collecting bets than escaping notice. Whos next? Blood dripped from his still-invisible daggers, pooling on the floor.
Suddenly they all had somewhere else to be. The sea of faces parted, giving him a direct view of Zacharel. The angel had his arms crossed over the wide expanse of his chest. His expression was troubled.
Still here? Paris arched a brow in challenge. You want a piece of me, too?
Frowning, silent, Zacharel vanished.
Seriously. Why the interest?
Does it matter? Urgency shooting through him, Paris stomped to Viola, who still studied herself in the mirror. He sheathed his weapons and jerked her toward the door. Come on.
It was definitely time to go. One, he didnt want to risk anyone else deciding to fight him. Two, seeing him talking to her might be more than Halo could handle. And three, she might have changed her mind about telling him what he wanted to know. Hed have to get physical.
Halo watched her with longing in his eyesand just before the door closed behind Paris, hatred. Yeah. The dude would be back for revenge. Shoulda killed him. He still could. But Paris opted not to return to finish the job. If Zacharel reappeared and kicked up a stink, his game plan would be screwed.
Hey, Viola said, at last snapping out of her trance. She tugged at his hold. A cool wind blew past them, caressing the silky length of her hair along his arm. What do you think youre doing?
I want her, Sex said, peeking from the shadows of his mind.
On a mission here. Im getting you to safety, he lied. You dont want your admirers to swarm you, do you?
She tugged harder. Of course I do. Heres a lesson about women. We like to be admired from afar, and then complimented up close.
He seriously did not need lessons. I meant your admirers werent paying you the proper homage. They dont deserve your exalted presence.
And wouldnt you know it. Her resistance ended there. You make an excellent point.
Of course, shed missed his sarcasm.
He arrived at an abandoned alley and stopped. Perfect. The moon was so close he had only to reach out to trace the soft, orange-yellow edges. Clouds were closer still, enveloping him in a fine, dew-scented mist. Though the area was well-lit, no one passing by would see what transpired within the narrow space.
He rounded on Viola, pressing her against the solid gold bricks of the building, invading her personal space to gain her full attention. Except, her attention had already moved to her phone, her fingers flying over the keyboard.
I want, I want, I want!
I hope you rot and die.
Lord of Sex is bloodier than before andickswollen. My eyes are not amused. Send.
He claimed her phone and, rather than smashing it as instinct demanded, returned it to the inside of her boot. You can Screech about this later. As for right now, youre going to talk to me. What can I do to see the dead? Remember, your worshippers insisted you tell me.
A pout of those lush lips, but she said, Burn the body of the soul you wish to see and save the ashes. Speaking of, did I ever tell you about how I once saved the ashes of a
On and on she droned about what shed done, then about herself, her life, and Paris tuned her out, a curtain of hope forming around his mind. Hed already burned Siennas body and saved the ashes. At the time, he hadnt known why hed done so; hed only known he couldnt part with what remained of her. And ever since, hed secretly carried a small vial of those ashes in his pocket.
Somehow, he must have suspected he would need them.
When Viola at last quieted, he said, Theres more to seeing a soul than saving the ashes. There had to be. A few weeks ago, Sienna had escaped Cronus, had hunted Paris down, yet Paris hadnt seen her.
He never would have known about her arrival if William the Ever Randy, another being who could commune with the dead, had not been with him and casually mentioned the dead girl at his feet. Of course, Cronus had swiftly tracked her down and dragged her back to her prison.
An act the Titan king would pay for.
Duh, of course there is. Mix the ashes with ambrosia and tattoo the rim of your eyes, Viola said. Youll see her, I promise. If you want to touch her, tattoo the tips of your fingers. If you want to hear her, tattoo the flesh behind your ears, blah blah blah. I remember a time when I
Once again he tuned her out. This he could, would do. Tattooing ones self with the ashes of the dead might be disgusting to most people, but Paris would have done a lot worse. Will I smell her? Taste her? he asked, interrupting Violas monologue.
Only if you tattoo the inside of your nose, lips and top of your tongue. One time, in Tartarus, I
Wait.
Enough! I dont want her, Sex suddenly piped up. Find someone else.
Well, well. For once they were in agreement. Is there anything else I should know? Any consequences I should be aware of
Paris.
The familiar voice came from behind him. Paris whipped around, sickness already churning inside his stomach. Whenever Lucien visited him, bad news was quick on his heels. Whats wrong?
CHAPTER FOUR
LUCIEN, KEEPER OF DEATH, stood tall and strong, a powerful presence even through the haze of mist that enveloped him. Like Viola, the warrior could flash from one location to another with only a thought. His dark hair was a mop of tangles sticking out in spikes. His eyesone blue, one brownwere bright with concern. Dirt smudged his scarred cheeks, and there were rips in his wrinkled shirt and pants.
Since I told you not to come back for me until I texted you, I take it thats not why youre here. Out of habit, Paris palmed his blades. You better start talking.
Luciens gaze strayed to Viola. Get rid of her first.
The her in question straightened her spine with a jolt. Oh, no, he didnt. Im not some pretty a man can just toss aside wheneveroh, hey. Youre Anyas man. The indignation left her, and she waved happily. Hi! Im Viola. As if you couldnt guess. My reputation for awesomeness precedes me, and Im sure Anya has mentioned me countless times.
She knew Anya, the minor goddess of Anarchy? A woman who had more balls than most menbecause shed cut them off the guys stupid enough to get in her way and kept them as souvenirs. Well, of course Viola knew Anya. They might have minor in their respective titles, but they were both major pains in the ass.
Luciens dark brows drew low. No, she never
Stops talking about you, Paris rushed out, halting his friend before he insulted the egomaniac. He ran his hand along the front of his neck, his fingers taut as a blade, the universal sign for cut that out or die.
Yes, Lucien lied, frowning. She mentions you all the time.
Viola laughed, a tinkling sound of amusement. No need to state the obvious, you darling boy. As if Im not aware of how often I come up in conversation.
You should probably Screech about seeing Anyas man, Paris said. Maybe describe him. Post a picture. Whatever.
Expression serious, she said, Ixnay on the picture. Those are reserved for my image, otherwise my fans get twitchy. But the other thingtotally. Description is one of the many areas I shine in, since I shine in everything. She grabbed her phone and typed away. Hair of indigo and eyes of crystal and chocolate, he stands before me
Paris met Luciens confused stare. Shes the keeper of Narcissism, and she only registers conversations about herself. Clearly. You can talk freely with me.
Luciens eyes widened, and he studied Viola anew. Another keeper? How did you find Why isnt she? Never mind. Doesnt matter right now. His focus whipped back to Paris. Im here because Kanes missing.
The sickness returned to burn a path up Pariss chest, stopping to play a game of tonsil hockey in his throat. How long?
Just a few days. He and William were together. Someone captured them, took them into hell to execute them. Maybe Hunters, maybe not. Another group attacked the first. William says the cavern they were in collapsed and knocked him out before the men could do anything to him. When he woke up, he was in a motel room in Budapest. Without Kane.
Paris rubbed a hand down his face. Is Kane stillalive? He had trouble speaking that last word, much less thinking it. If his friend had been slain while hed been chasing tail, he would never forgive himself.