The Darkest Passion(The sixth book in the Lords of the Underworld series)Gena Showalter
Dear Reader,
Im thrilled to present The Darkest Passion, the fifth installment in my paranormal series LORDS OF THE UNDERWORLD. In a remote fortress in Budapest, twelve immortal warriorseach more dangerously seductive than the lastare bound by an ancient curse none has been able to break. When a powerful enemy returns, they will travel the world in search of a sacred relic of the godsone that threatens to destroy them all.
In this story Aeron, the keeper of Wrath, at last meets Olivia, the angel who has been stalkinguh, keeping tabs on him. Bad timing, too. Hes finally happy with his life, content to pamper his adoptive daughter (cough devils spawn cough), yet Olivia has him spiraling out of control, battling a fierce need to protect her. Even from himself.
Join me on a journey through this darkly sensual world, where the line between good and evil blurs and true love is put to the ultimate test. And dont miss Into the Dark (out now!), featuring two extended LORDS OF THE UNDERWORLD eBooks in print for the first time, plus fun bonus material. Also, stay tuned for The Darkest LieGideons storyin July 2010, as the stakes get higher, the quest more dangerous and the romance hotter!
Wishing you all the best,
Gena Showalter
Acknowledgments:
I want to thank all the wonderful people at Harlequin Books for the continued support and encouragement. I am very blessed to work with you!
CHAPTER ONE
THEY DONT SEEM TO CARE that theyre dying.
Aeron, an immortal warrior possessed by the demon of Wrath, was perched atop the roof of the Bübájos Apartments in central Budapest, peering down at the humans so blithely going about their evening. Some were shopping, some talking and laughing, and some snacking while they walked. But none of them were dropping to their knees and begging the gods for more time in those feeble bodies. Nor were they sobbing because they wouldnt get it.
He shifted his focus from the people to their surroundings. Muted moonlight spilled from the sky, blending with the amber glow of the street lamps and casting shadows on the paved pathways. Buildings stretched on every side, some of the higher points wrapped in light green awnings, the perfect contrast to the emerald trees rising from their bases.
Pretty, as far as coffins went.
Humans knew they were fading. Hell, they grew up knowing theyd have to abandon everything and everyone they loved, and yet, as hed already observed, they didnt demand or even request more time. And thatfascinated him. Were Aeron to learn hed soon be separated from his friends, the other demon-possessed warriors hed spent the last few thousand years protecting, he would have done anythingyes, even begto change his fate.
So why didnt the mortals? What did they know that he did not?
They arent dying, his friend Paris said from beside him. Theyre living while they have the chance.
Aeron snorted. That wasnt the answer he sought. For how could they live while they had the chance when their chance was a mere blink of time? Theyre frail. Easily destroyed. As you well know. Cruel of him to say because Parissgirlfriend? Lover? Chosen female? Whatever she was, shed recently been shot to death in front of Paris. Still, Aeron couldnt regret his words.
Paris was the keeper of Promiscuity, forced to bed a different human every day or he would weaken and die himself. He couldnt afford to mourn the loss of one specific lover. Especially an enemy lover, which was what his little Sienna had been.
Aeron hated to admit it, but on some level, he was glad the woman was dead. She would have used Pariss needs against him and ultimately ruined him.
I, however, will ensure his safety always. It was a vow. The king of the gods had given Paris a choice: the return of his females soul or Aerons freedom from a horrific blood-craze that constantly danced thoughts of maiming and killing through his mind. Thoughts, he was ashamed to admit, he had acted upon. Over and over again.
Because of that curse, Reyes, the keeper of the demon of Pain, had almost lost his beloved Danika. In fact, Aeron had been poised to strike that final blow, blade sharpened, raisedfalling toward her pretty neck. But just before contact, Paris had chosen Aeron and the craze had instantly left him, sparing Danikas life.
Part of Aeron still felt guilty about what had almost happenedand about the consequences of Pariss choice. A guilt that was like acid in his bones, eating away at him. Paris now suffered while he reveled in his freedom. That didnt mean he would show Paris mercy in this matter, however. He loved his friend too much for that. More than that, Aeron owed him. And Aeron always repaid his debts.
Hence the reason they were on this roof.
Taking care of Paris, though, was not an easy task. For the past six nights Aeron had carted his friend here amid ceaseless protests. Paris had only to pick a woman, then Aeron would procure her and ensure the two were safe while they had sex. But each night the choice was made later. And later.
Aeron had a feeling he and Paris would sit here and talk until sunrise this time.
Had the now-depressed warrior eschewed these weak mortals as Aeron did, he would not currently be wishing for something he couldnt have. He would not be desperate for itand denied it for all eternity.
Aeron sighed. Paris, he began. Then stopped. How should he proceed? Your mourning must end. Good. To the point, just as he preferred. Its weakening you.
Paris ran his tongue over his teeth. As if youre one to talk about weakness. How many times have you been Wraths bitch? Countless. And in how many of those countless instances can you blame the gods? Only once. When that demon overtakes you, you lose all control of your actions. So dont add hypocrisy to your list of sins, okay?
He didnt take offense. Sadly, Pariss claim was irrefutable. Sometimes Wrath would seize control of Aerons body and fly him through town, striking at everyone within reach, hurting them and gorging on their terror. During those instances, Aeron was aware of what was happening, but unable to halt the carnage.
Not that he always wanted the carnage to halt. Some people deserved what they got.
But he did loathe losing control of his body, as if he were merely a puppet with strings. Or a monkey who danced on command. When he was reduced to such a state, he despised his demonbut not as much as he despised himself. Because with the hatred, he also experienced pride. In Wrath. Wresting the reins of control from him required power, and power of any kind was to be prized.
Still. The love-hate tug-of-war disturbed him.
You might not have meant to, but youve just proven my point, he said, jumping back into conversation. Weakness births destruction. No exceptions. In Pariss case, mourning was simply another word for distracted. And such distraction could prove fatal.
What does that have to do with me? What does that have to do with the humans down there? Paris pointed.
Big picture time. Those people. They age and deteriorate in a heartbeat of time.
And?
And let me finish. If you fall in love with one of them, you might have her for the better part of a century. Maybe, if disease or an accident do not befall her. But it will be a century spent watching her wither and die. And during it all, youll know an eternity without her awaits you.
Such pessimism. Paris tskedhardly the reaction Aeron had expected. You see it as a century spent losing that which you are unable to protect. I see it as a century spent enjoying a great blessing. A blessing that will aid you the rest of eternity.
Aid? Absurd. When you lost something precious, the memories of it became a tormenting reminder of what you could never have again. Those memories added to your troubles, distracting youunlike Paris, he wouldnt wrap the word in a pretty bowrather than strengthening you.
Proof: thats how he felt about Baden, keeper of Distrust and once his best friend. Long ago, hed lost the man hed loved more than he would have loved even a blood brother, and now, every time he was alone, he pictured Baden and wondered about what could have been.
He didnt want that for Paris.
Forget big picture. Time for a little more mercilessness. If youre so capable of accepting loss, why do you still mourn Sienna?
A beam of moonlight hit Pariss face, and Aeron saw that his eyes were slightly glazed. Obviously, hed been drinking. Again. I didnt have my century with her. I had but a few days. Flat tone.
Dont stop now. And if you had been given a hundred years with her before she died, you would now be at peace with her death?
There was a pause.
He hadnt thought so.
Enough! Paris slammed a fist into the roof and the entire building shook. I dont want to talk about this anymore.
Too bad. Loss is loss. Weakness is weakness. If we dont allow ourselves to grow attached to the humans, we wont care when they leave us. If we harden our hearts, we wont desire that which we cannot have. Our demons taught us that very well.
Each of their demons had once lived in hell and desired freedom, and so together they fought their way out. Only, they ended up exchanging one prison for another, and the second had been far worse than the first.
Rather than enduring sulfur and flames as they had before, they spent a thousand years trapped inside Pandoras box. A thousand years of darkness and desolation and pain. Theyd had no independence, no hope for something better.
Had those demons been stronger, had they not craved that which was forbidden to them, they would not have been captured.
Had Aeron been stronger of will, he would not later have helped open that box. Would not then have been cursed to house the very evil he had released inside his own body. Would not have been kicked from the heavens, the only home hed ever known, to spend the rest of eternity in this chaotic land where nothing stayed the same.
He would not have lost Baden while warring with Huntersdespicable mortals who abhorred the Lords, blaming them for the worlds evil. A friend just died of cancer? Of course the Lords were responsible. A teenage girl just discovered she was pregnant? The Lords had clearly struck again.
Had he been stronger, he would not be caught up in that war once again, fighting, killing. Always killing.
Have you ever yearned for a mortal? Paris asked, drawing him from his dark thoughts. Sexually?
A quiet laugh escaped him. Welcome a female into my life one day, only to lose her the next? No. He was smarter than that.
Who says you have to lose her? Paris withdrew a flask from the inside of his leather jacket and took a long swig.
More alcohol already? Clearly his little pep talk hadnt done his friend a bit of good.
After swallowing, Paris added, Maddox has Ashlyn, Lucien has Anya, Reyes has Danika and now Sabin has Gwen. Even Gwens sister, Bianka the Terrible, has a lover. An angel I had to oil-wrestle, but whatever. We wont talk about that part.
Oil-wrestling? Yes. Best to avoid. Those couples have each other, but each of those women has an ability that sets her apart from the others of her kind. Theyre more than human. That didnt mean they would live forever, though. Even immortals could be slain. Hed been the one to pick up Badens headwithout the warriors body. Hed been the one to first glimpse that eternally frozen expression of shock.
Well, hello, solution. Find a female with an ability that sets her apart, Paris said dryly.
As if it were that easy. Besides I have Legion, and shes all I can handle at the moment. He pictured the little demon so like a daughter to him and grinned. When standing, she only reached his waist. She had green scales, two tiny horns that had just sprouted atop her head and sharp teeth that produced poisonous saliva. Tiaras were her favorite accessory and living flesh her favorite meal.
The first he enjoyed indulging, the second they were working on.
Aeron had met her in hell. Well, as close to the blistering pit as a man could get without actually melting inside its flames. Hed been chained next door, so to speak, drunk with that cursed bloodlust, determined to slay even his friends, when Legion had dug her way to him, her presence somehow clearing his mind, giving him the strength he so prized. Shed helped him escape, and theyd been together ever since.
Except for now. His precious baby girl had returned to hell, a place she despised, all because an honest-to-the-gods angel had been watching Aeron, skulking in the shadows, invisible, waiting forsomething. What, he didnt know. He only knew that intense gaze wasnt on him right now, but it would return. It always did. And Legion couldnt stand it.
He leaned back and peered up at the night sky. The stars were vivid tonight, like diamonds scattered across black satin. Sometimes, when he craved even the illusion of solitude, he would soar as high as his wings would take him and then fall, fast and sure, only slowing seconds before impact.
As Paris downed another mouthful of his liquor, the scent of ambrosia wafted on the breeze, as gentle and sweet as babys breath. Aeron shook his head. Ambrosia was his friends drug of choice, the only thing capable of numbing mind and body for men such as them, but its use was getting out of hand, making the once fierce soldier sloppy.
With Galen, leader of the Hunters and a demon-possessed warrior like them, roaming the streets, he needed his friend lucid at the very least. Factor in the angel, and well, he needed his friend in top fighting form. Angels, as hed recently learned, were demon-assassins.
Did this angel want to kill him? He wasnt sure, and Biankas consort, Lysander, wouldnt tell him. But then, the answer really didnt matter. He planned to gut the coward, male or female, the moment it grew some balls and appeared in front of him.
No one separated him from Legion. Not without suffering for it. Legion could even now be hurting, mentally and physically. At the thought, Aerons hands clenched so tightly the bones nearly fractured. The little darlings brethren enjoyed taunting her for her kindness and compassion. They also enjoyed chasing her, and gods knew what theyd do to her if they actually caught her.