You better shut your mouth while you still have a head. Even as irritated as he was with Williams suggestion, pulses of desire shot through Paris at the thought of being alone with Sienna and touching her as easily as William had touched the statuelittle flames he wasnt sure whether to douse or welcome.
Shout if you need me. Like, if shes too much for you.
That day will never come. Paris veered left as the warrior veered right. By the way, if you knock on my door, you better be dying. Cause if youre not, you soon will be. He shouldered his way into the first room he came across. His luck was holding, because it was a furnished bedroom. All he had to do was remove the thick layers of dust and the tarp draping everything.
Or maybe he should leave the tarp. Because when Sienna woke up, this might become a war zone.
CHAPTER TWELVE
KANE, KEEPER OF THE DEMON of Disaster, could not believe his luck. Usually his life took the express train to hell, whether hed purchased a ticket or not, with rocks falling on his head, lightbulbs shorting out and holes opening up at his feet. Stuff like that could really mess with a guys mind, so over the years hed developed a philosophy that had saved his life: bad shit happened, but whatever, he would deal and move on.
Now he was actually in hell, but he wasnt being tortured. He wasnt being questioned, and catastrophes werent occurring. He was being worshipped. By demon minions, sure, but worship was worship, right? Their scaled, clawed hands caressed him, their horned heads rubbed against him gently, and the rest of their bodieshe wouldnt think about.
Mine, Disaster whispered inside his head, pride bubbling to the surface and washing through Kanes entire body.
Yeah, Kane knew these minions belonged solely to Disaster. Long ago, the High Lord had lived in this section of hell, had ruled here, and then had chosen to leave it all behind and escape. And even though thousands of years had passed since that time, the connection hadnt faded. The minions, or lesser demons, had sensed their leader inside of Kane and rescued him from his attackers.
Currently Kane was perched on a throne of the freshlyexcavated bones. Okay, okay. That was a nice way of saying the bones used to belong to the Hunters whod thought to hurt Kane, and only a few days ago theyd been plucked out. And, when you considered the fact that Kanes shirt and pants were made from the tanned and leathered skinsbecause of the heat, the process had been swiftwell, a chair of femurs? No biggie.
They were gifts, the minions had said. And like he could really say, Thanks, but Id rather have a toaster. In return, all they wanted was his sperm.
Yeah. Thats right. His baby juice.
Seemed his demon had once possessed a jealous streak and, true to his name, had caused a disaster that wiped his male minions from existence. Only females remained and they were desperate to procreate with their favorite Evil Overlord.
Kane hadnt had sex in centuries; the act was simply too risky for his partners. So yeah, his body was primed and ready. Gnarled the demon hands might be, but they still stroked and gripped just fine. His mind, however, was so not on board.
Back up, ladies, he commanded. He could have been nice about it, sure, but something hed learned was that demons only responded to strength. Nice wouldnt get him crap.
Still, he expected a fight. Instead, moans of disappointment echoed and contact ceased. They obeyed him, inching backward. But they lingered nearby, prostrate, still reaching for him, clearly hoping hed change his mind.
Inside his head, Disaster prowled with purpose, unhappy with the distance. The females belonged to him, they were his right, and he wanted to mate with them. Take, he said.
No. Kane wasnt the type of guy who could walk away from his kids, even half-demon ones, and thats what hed have to do in this situation.
Take!
I said no. Hed rather find a way out of here. But every time he stood, and no matter what he said while he was standing, within seconds the females would swarm him, pushing his pants around his ankles. He wasnt sure whether Disaster had trained them to react so swiftly, or if Kane was just special.
Two things he was certain about. His friends were worried about him, and they were searching for him. He didnt want them coming down here, risking their lives when his was no longer in danger.
Take one, then. Just one.
Ah, so they were supposed to negotiate now, were they? Well, the answer was still a resounding hell no. Butmaybe he could pretend, Kane thought. Maybe if he picked one of the females, got her alone, hed have a better chance of sneaking out of the cavern.
His gaze skated over the kneeling, writhing bodies. Some had horns protruding from their spines, some had pointed wings. Some had red scales, some had green. Beyond them was the cavern, blood caked on the jagged rocks, fires blazing in every corner, and screams of the damned floating on the hot, sulfur-scented air. When he found a smaller body with no horns or wings, her scales on the lighter side of jade, he pointed.
You. If for once in his eternal life, his good luck held, she would be a weak link.
Gasps of surprise. Hisses of jealousy.
I want you, he reiterated.
His chosen stood. Her legs were twisted, facing the wrong way. Her feet were hoofed, and when she smiled, he saw a mouthful of bloodstained fangs. Disaster slammed against his skull, bang, bang, desperate to leave him, to touch her, to pound inside her.
Mine. Shes mine!
And just how would the bastard react whenhypotheticallyKane nailed her? Murder Kane, the same way hed once murdered his own people? Probably. Because if he managed to end Kanes life, he could remain here, a place hed once fought to escape but now realized he missed. Sure, if that happened, Disaster would be crazed from the loss of his human host, but the demon would be free to screw whoever he desired, all by himself.
Talk about a messed-up sitch.
Demon Girl limped to the throne, and the wanton gleam in her eyes suggested she intended to climb Kane like a carnival pony the second she reached him, while everyone watched.
Bang, bang. Disaster was on board with that.
Kane shook his head and extended a hand, palm up, to stop her progress. Nope, sorry. Dont come any closer.
A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth as she obeyed.
Privacy, he said. Bang, bang. Harder, faster. I want totake you in a tent. He wasnt sure what verbiage these demons would understand.
Massster? Her forked tongue swiped over too-thin lips.
I will not take you out here. Or anywhere. Bang, bang. Damn it. His demon needed to settle the hell down. So, build me a tent. Bang. All of you. Bang. And hell, maybe, with his present run of good luck, he wouldnt have to wait for its completion. Maybe the females would be so distracted during the building of the tent, he could stomp out of the cavern while yelling, whistling, whatever, and they wouldnt notice.
Tent? she asked, still so clearly confused.
Yes. I want one. Build the tent now, and you can have babies later. With someone else.
Bang! Bang!
Most of the minions rushed away to gather the necessary supplies, shoving each other out of the way, but a few stragglers remained behind, staring at him. And by a few, he meant a little over one hundred. He sighed. So, thered be no stomping, yelling or whistling his way out.
He wished he were more like Paris. Wished he could plow through themin bed and outand be stronger for it while remaining emotionally distanced and unconcerned with the consequences.
Of course, then hed also be a drug addict obsessed with finding the woman whod tried to kill him, but at the moment, drugs and obsession seemed like a nice change of pace. And damn. When Kane got home, he was gonna be teased mercilessly about his precious seed, his needy harem girls, and his refusal to fertilize their petunia patches.
Bring it, boys. At least hed be home.
Home The word echoed through his mind, a wave of foreboding slamming through him.
Something was about to happen, he realized with a twist of sickness. Something terrible was about to happen. A disastera tragedy of the worst sortinside the fortress in Buda, where all the Lords and their significant others lived. His fortress. His demon knew it, sensed it, and in turn, so did Kane.
He was on his feet and running for the exit, not slowing even when multiple females latched on to him and held on for the ride.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
VIOLA TRAILED AFTER the gorgeous warrior named Maddox as he carried his very pregnant wife, Ashlyn, up the stairs, past naked portraits of his friends holding rainbow-colored ribbons and stuffed teddy bears. This was the fourth time one of the Budapest residents had foisted her off on someone else, and she couldnt understand why no one wanted to spend more time with her.
From Lucien to Anya, whom shed met in Tartarus centuries ago. Theyd been cell-block-B mates. Anya had always been jealous of her, of course. Who hadntand wasnt? Earlier today the minor goddess had pretended not to recognize her, but Viola had taken the lie for what it was. A plea to hear all about Violas magnificent life.
An hour later, Anya had handed her off to Reyes and his Danika. Viola was still puzzling over Anyas parting words to the couple. Here you go. Take her. And youre welcome. You wont need to stab yourself to please your demon for at least a year, Reyes.
Just how was Viola supposed to have pleased an anguish-happy fiend like Reyes? He was possessed by the demon of Pain, yet she was perfectlyperfect, a joy to look upon and listen to, a veritable fount of shiny, priceless pearls of wisdom, with a keen sense of fashion and a knack for home decorating.
Speaking of those little life skills, shed already decided to put them to good use. From now on she would be dressing everyone here, as well as redesigning their mansions interior and exterior. And she wasnt even going to charge themmore than a few hundred thou.
Her eyes filled with tears as her hand fluttered to her heart. She was such a giver.
At one time, centuries ago, shed done something not so giving and sent herself catapulting into a shame spiral, but she couldnt recall what that something was. She never did. Her demon stored negative memories away, hiding them from her. Anything to continue her love affair with herself. As if she would ever end it.
Anyway. An hour into their conversation, Reyes had handed her off to Aerons angel, Olivia. And fifteen minutes after that, Olivia had sweetly suggested that Viola shouldnt deny Maddox the pleasure of her company. Five glorious (for him) minutes later, Maddox had stomped away, muttering something about finding his wife and Viola could join him if she insisted. So, here they were, headed to the couples bedroom.
Im sure I could whip up some kind of mechanical chair that would cart your wife around, Viola told the warrior. He was shirtless, and the crimson butterfly tattoo stretching across his shoulder bladesthe mark of his demonseemed to be scowling at her. Im handy with tools, as you probably guessed, and your back is probably strained from her massive weight.
Ashlyn smothered a laugh with one hand, but she failed to smother Maddoxs snarl with the other.
She is light as a feather, he snarled. I enjoy carrying her. I also enjoy having her all to myself.
Okay, but its your backs funeral. In a few years, youll probably need a brace. Oh, yes. His tattoo was indeed scowling at her. A gnarled, skeletal face had formed between the wings, fangs extending from a tiny mouth. The edges of the wings sharpened into daggerlike points, curling toward her.
Cool, but in no way comparable to hers. The front of her butterfly stretched along her chest, stomach and legs. The back of her butterfly stretched along her shoulders, thighs and calves. A total body tat that glimmered with the radiance of crushed pink diamonds.
Ashlyns honey-colored eyes found her over Maddoxs muscled shoulder. Hes not trying to get rid of you
Yes, I am, Maddox said.
hes just cranky, the human finished.
Violas brow wrinkled as she attempted to figure out how the poor, addled pregnant woman could have come up with such a preposterous idea. Get rid of her? Please. Men, women and children, mortals and immortals, fought to keep her by their sides. Dont worry your pretty little head about me, she said. Wasnt that what humans said to one another to prove they werent offended by stupid ideas? Im sure hes simply overwhelmed by my magnificence.
Maddox was the one to scowl this time, tossing the dark expression at her before stopping in front of a closed door. But then Ashlyn giggled and his gaze shot to her face. His entire body softened, melting like an ice cube in the summer heat.
A pang throbbed in Violas chest. She thought back, but couldnt remember anyone ever looking at her like that, as if she were the morning sun, the midnight moon, and every star perched in the endless sky. Even though shed had thousandsno, bazillions!of admirers.
Wheres your dog? Ashlyn asked.
Princess Fluffikans is exploring these new surroundings without any hindrance from mommy.
That explains the screaming downstairs, Maddox muttered.
Ashlyn kissed her husband on the lips, then reached out to twist the knob. The door creaked open, and Maddox carried her inside. Fresh, clean air wafted to Viola. Out of habit, she scouted every inch in a single sweep, searching out all the mirrors and reflective surfaces. To the left was a vanity, and she made a mental note to avoid it, even as her demon urged her to close the distanceto take a teeny-tiny peekjust one, just for a second, because she would look so very beautiful....
She gritted her teeth. Dewy flowers spilled from colorful vases balanced on every piece of furniture in the room except the bed. Flowers had been woven in the wrought-iron bedposts, though, twining and clinging like ivy.
A portrait hung in the center of the far wall. And sweet heavens. Viola approached the thing slowly. The attention to detail was stunning. She could only take in a little at a time, studying one small section, looking away, then turning back to study another, repeating the process again and again until shed gone over every inch.
In it, Ashlyn lounged in a lush, jewel-toned garden, flower petals in her hair, draping her body and dripping all around her. But the petals were not actually petals; they were faces. So many faces. The warriors here, their women, faces Viola didnt recognize and others she didincluding her own. She quickly looked away from her own image, deciding to ponder its presence at a safer time.
One of Ashlyns arms was bare, her skin tattooed to her elbow. Flames and snowflakes twisted together, and while the flames should have melted the flakes and the flakes should have doused the flames, the two somehow fed off each other, growing in color and intensity the higher up her arm they moved.
There was a reflective pool in front of her, and Maddox peered at her from its murky depths. Ashlyn reached for him with that tattooed arm, a silver ring winding along her index finger, glowing majestically.
Violas nerve endings tingled. Shed seen paintings like this one before, but couldnt recall where or when. What she did know: every color, every face, every inch meant something. For real. This was symbolism at its finest. Only she didnt know how to decipher it.
Who painted this? she asked, her awe unmistakable. She straightened, turned away from the portrait before she lost hours of her life puzzling over the thing. Same as she lost hours every time she caught sight of her own image.
Danika, Reyess woman, Maddox muttered.
Danika. Hmm. Now that the painting was behind her, Viola allowed herself to question her inclusion in it. Shed met Danika for the first time this morning. The female appeared human, but after seeing this, she knew there had to be more to her. Its an exquisite piece.
Her work always is, Ashlyn said proudly.
She sees into the future?
We will not discuss that, Maddox said.
So yes, she did. Shell want to paint one of me all by myself, of course. Ill have to check my schedule and make sure I have the time to pose for her. If not, Ill make time. Must question her. Must learn more about myself.
Another giggle from Ashlyn. Another scowl from Maddox.
Hed placed his female on the bed and tucked the covers around her. Now he smoothed the hair from her brow, as gently as if he were caring for a fragile infant. What do you need, sweetheart? Name it, and its yours.
Dainty fingers rubbed at that swollen belly even as a soft smile played at her plump lips. I would really, really love an orange. Just one this time, though. Last time this particular craving hit, you brought me the entire grove.
I will bring you the best, most succulent orange you have ever tasted. He caressed her cheek for a moment, as if he couldnt bear to look away from her. Then he forced himself to do so and shot Viola a threatening glare.
You will guard her with your life. And if you hurt her, even accidentally His hands fisted at his sides.
Cant think of anything vile enough? Viola thought for a moment. May I suggest disembowelment? You can hang me from the ceiling with my own intestines. That would be really gruesome.
He gaped at her.
Word of warning, though. Intestines are pink and pink is my best color. Wait. Who am I kidding? All colors are my best color. So, if you go that route, be ready to fall in love with me all over again.
His mouth snapped shut, a grimace contorting his lips. Thats it. Im staying. Viola, you go find the orange.
No way. Unless we go together and you carry me. All that walking had caused her feet to throb.
He looked at the door, then Viola, then the door, then Viola again.
Oh, come on. Your resident angel already told you that Im pure of heart, can be trusted, blah, blah, blah. That had surprised Viola, because she wasnt sure shed ever been pure of heart. The fact that the warriors believed the dark-haired girl without a moments hesitation had really surprised her. Supposedly, they were the most suspicious beings on earth. Oh, and bring me an orange, too, but put it beside a hamburger and fries. I skipped lunch.
After issuing a few more threats to her life, he finally stalked from the room.
Overprotective momma grisly, she muttered. Geez.
Have you never been in love? Ashlyn asked.
Hello. Im not a fool.
Is that a yes, then?
Um, yeah, thats a no.
A serene smile met her vehemence. Why so much horror at the prospect?
The ache in her chest returned. She rubbed and rubbed, nearly peeling off her shirt and the skin underneath, but the damn ache persisted. I dont know. Time to change the subject. Im thinking about planning a singles night here at my new homefingers crossed its foreverand letting the unattached warriors court me. She strolled to the bed and eased onto the edge. Maybe a speed-dating-type thing, since I usually cant stand a man for more than a few minutes at a time. Afterward, Ill give the ones I like a rose and the others will have to pack their bags and leave the fortress permanently.
Hmm. Well. Ashlyn tapped a finger against her chin, the corners of her lips twitching as if she were fighting another laugh. Believe it or not, there are only a few singles left.
Like who?
Well, lets see. Theres Torin.
His image rose in Violas mind. White hair, black brows, brilliant green eyes. Gorgeous face and muscled body. Hell do. You may continue.
Well, not that hes not wonderful, but I should warn you theres a potential drawback to dating him. Hes the keeper of Disease, and he cant touch another living creature skin-to-skin without causing a plague. You wouldnt get sick from him because youre immortal, but in turn you also wouldnt be able to touch another living creature without passing on the illness. Besides him, that is.
Viola rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Youre right. I wouldnt get sick if I touched him. Im sure you noticed how killer my immune system is. But even still, Im not sure I want someone so flawed worshipping at my temple. Who else is there?
Theres Kane, but hes Sadness dulled Ashlyns amber eyes. He doesnt date. Says its not worth the hardship.
Hed change his mind for me, of course, but thats not why youre sad, right? I believe I heard something about him being missing.
Yes.
Dont worry. As soon as he finds out Im here, hell find his way back. Even if hes dead. I dont like to brag, but thats happened a few times before. Ill just shoot out a quick little Screech, and boom. The race to reach me will begin.
Rather than cheer the girl up, her reassurances tossed worry into that storm of sadness. Uh, youre not supposed to Screech, Ashlyn said. Remember?
Violas shoulders slumped. Thats right. Within five minutes of arriving here, Lucien had dragged her to the luscious Torins bedroom and told the guy to check out her blog and websiteevidently he was the resident computer guru. Afterward, both men had issued the same warning. Screech or post anything online about her location or her new BFFs and she would never be allowed back.
Who else? she asked.
Ashlyn nibbled on her bottom lip. Theres Cameo, but Im pretty sure she likes men.
Viola shook her head. I could change her mind, no problem, but Im so over that stage of my life. Who else?
Theres William the Ever Randy. Hes not a demon keeper, but hes some kind of immortal.
William the Naughty Boy Toy. Oh, yes, she knew him. Like Anya, Viola had met him in Tartarus. Hes more than immortal, but whatever. He was also arrogant, conceited and highly annoying. Ill put him in the maybe category.
More than immortal? What does that mean? Hes claimed to be some kind of god a few times, but I always assumed he was bragging, padding the truth. Which is
Enough about him. Were talking about me. Who else can I date?
Annnd a return of the nibbling. Theres Paris, but hes kind of obsessed with another woman right now.
The dead one. Yeah. I know. I could still change his mind, but I dont think I want to, because There was a reason, wasnt there? As Viola pondered the answer, she clinked her teeth together.
Paris had asked her how to see the dead, and she had told him. Then hed asked her something else, but Lucien arrived and ended their conversation. What had he asked? She tuned her minds radio in to their past conversation, and her eyes widened as the answer at last slammed into place.
Consequences. Hed wanted to know if there would be consequences for tattooing himself with Siennas ashes. Oops. Shed let him get away without telling him that yes, there would be.
Oh, well. It wasnt her problem. It was his.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DAZED, SIENNA WALKED down a long hallway. Just as her past had played along the walls of the castle, Pariss past played here, a concerto of colors, faces, voiceslimbs. On both sides of her, above and below her, women writhed, so many women. At first, she saw them smiling, heard them laughing, each one eager for what he offered, quickly falling for his charming facade.
Why wouldnt they? Whatever they wanted, he gave them. A touch, a kiss, a lick. A gentle ride. A rough pounding. He made love to all of them, knew exactly where to stroke and taste for maximum pleasure. He knew precisely the right amount of pressure to use as he kneaded their breasts, their thighs. Soft for some, firm for others.
He knew what position to place them in. On their backs, their hands and knees, right side up, upside down. Knew some wanted slow, and some wanted fast. They loved him for it, their pleasure unparalleled.
Then he left them and they cried with gut-wrenching sobs, their bodies heaving, their hearts breaking as the grief overcame them. Interspersed throughout the females were males. Paris had been with men, too, and hed left them in the same condition as the women. They wanted him, and though they were not his preference, he took them so that he might survive. Afterward, they asked him to stay and he bailed.
One woman, Susan, was a beauty hed truly cared for. Hed tried to make a relationship with her work, but Paris, being Paris, had hurt her in the worst way, choosing survival, as always, over her heart.
When Sienna caught an image of herself, she stopped, gasped. There, practically overshadowed by the other images, Paris was strapped to her bosss table, naked, the lights dim, and she was on top of him. She didnt need the vision to serve as a reminder. She would never forget.
She had been unable to see him, needing the darkness to relax, and he had alternated between snapping at her, hating her, hating himself, and aiding her, moving his hips to increase her pleasure. Now, however, she saw into his mind. Part of him had hoped to punish her afterward. Part of himthe deepest, most secret parthad wanted to hold on to her and never let go. To him, she had been a balm unlike any other.
Nausea rose, threatening to erupt. He had thought such beautiful things about her, and still she had condemned him.
Wrath slammed into her frontal lobe, urging her forward. To see more, to see all. She stumbled along, her feet as heavy as boulders.
Other scenes bled into the image of her and Paris, and someone must have cranked the volume control because suddenly she heard grunts, groans, moans and screams. Screams of pleasure, of pain and even of fury. Accusations were hurled, followed by pleas.
The pleas were followed by curses.
Sometimes, when Paris could find no one willing to be with him, his strength would wane, his will to live would wither and his demon would pull free of his reins. A dark, rich scent would seep from Pariss pores, intoxicating everyone nearby, luring them closer. These people would flock to him, regardless of their previous reservations about him or their disgust for casual sex. They would take him, or allow him to take them.
When this happened, Paris always battled intense guilt, because he knew the dastardly thing he was doingbut he took whatever was offered anyway.
These bedmates did not cry when he left. They watched him through narrowed eyes, detesting him, shamed by what theyd done with and to him, horrified by what they would soon lose. A loved ones respect.
He had broken up marriages, had committed adultery and performed sexual acts that left him cold and shaken. He then allowed those same sexual acts to be performed on him. A self-imposed punishment of sorts, she thought. All of that she could have guessed. But what astonished her? He detested himself far more powerfully than any of the humans ever had or could.
Oh, Paris, she thought. He was heaven and hell, just as Wrath had said, wrapped in the same luscious package.
Sienna wanted to cover her eyes to block the sights. She wanted to scream and scream and scream to block the sounds. Everyone in the crowd was crying now. Even Paris. Their tears poured from the ceiling, raining down, battering at her. But her hands remained at her sides and her mouth remained shut, her feet moving automatically. Her body was no longer connected to her brain.
Wrath wanted her to know, and so she would know.
The volume cranked up another notch, a shriek resounding at her left, spine-chilling, nauseating. All of the tears ceased. Another shriek sounded, then battle scene after battle scene came to life. Blood, a canvas of scarlet. Blades glinting with menace. Guns firing one after the other. Bombs exploding. Limbs separating from bodies, guts spilling. Death, so much death. Each delivered by Paris.
Paris, the FedEx deliveryman of Pleasure and Fatality.
There was no guilt here, however. No shame. Only cold, hard logic. Kill or be killed. No room for emotions or regrets. No hope for something better. This was it; this was the card he must constantly play. Fight for what he wanted or curl up and die.
He would not curl up and die.
Even though Siennas own demon seemed to like Paris on some level, Wrath, being Wrath, still hoped to castigate him for all the wrongs hed committed. The demon urged her to sleep with Paris and leave him. To break his heart. To make him sob and beg for another chance with her. Then, of course, would come the stabbing, hurting him as he had hurt so many others.
No! No, no, no. She jerked free of whatever leash the demon had used to bind her to his will and flattened her hands against her stomach, as if the puny action could settle the sickness still churning there.