The Darkest Angel (Lords of the Underworld #4.5)
Author: Gena Showalter

CHAPTER ONE

FROM HIGH IN THE HEAVENS, Lysander spotted his prey. At last. Finally, I will end this. His jaw clenched and his skin pulled tight. With tension. With relief. Determined, he jumped from the cloud he stood upon, falling quickly…wind whipping through his hair…

When he neared ground, he allowed his wings, long and feathered and golden, to unfold from his back and catch in the current, slowing his progress.He was a soldier for the One True Deity. One of the Elite Seven, created before time itself. With as many millennia as he’d lived, he’d come to learn that each of the Elite Seven had one temptation. One potential downfall. Like Eve with her apple. When they found this…thing, this abomination, they happily destroyed it before it could destroy them.

Lysander had finally found his.

Bianka Skyhawk.

She was the daughter of a Harpy and a phoenix shape-shifter. She was a thief, a liar and a killer who found joy in the vilest of tasks. Worse, the blood of Lucifer—his greatest enemy and the sire of most demon hordes—flowed through her veins. Which meant Bianka was his enemy.

He lived to destroy his enemies.

However, he could only act against them when they broke a heavenly law. For demons, that involved escaping their fiery prison to walk the earth. For Bianka, who had never been condemned to hell, that would have to involve something else. What, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he’d never experienced what mortals referred to as “desire.”

Until Bianka.

And he didn’t like it.

He’d seen her for the first time several weeks ago, long black hair flowing down her back, amber eyes bright and lips bloodred. Watching her, unable to turn away, a single question had drifted through his mind: Was her pearl-like skin as soft as it appeared?

Forget desire. He’d never wondered such a thing about anyone before. He’d never cared. But the question was becoming an obsession, discovering the truth a need. And it had to end. Now. This day.

He landed just in front of her, but she couldn’t see him. No one could. He existed on another plane, invisible to mortal and immortal alike. He could scream, and she would not hear him. He could walk through her, and she would not feel him. For that matter, she would not smell or sense him in any way.

Until it was too late.

He could have formed a fiery sword from air and cleaved her head from her body, but didn’t. As he’d already realized and accepted, he could not kill her. Yet. But he could not allow her to roam unfettered, tempting him, a plague to his good sense, either. Which meant he would have to settle for imprisoning her in his home in the sky.

That didn’t have to be a terrible ordeal for him, however. He could use their time together to show her the right way to live. And the right way was, of course, his way. What’s more, if she did not conform, if she did finally commit that unpardonable sin, he would be there, at last able to rid himself of her influence.

Do it. Take her.

He reached out. But just before he could wrap his arms around her and fly her away, he realized she was no longer alone. He scowled, his arms falling to his sides. He did not want a witness to his deeds.

“Best day ever,” Bianka shouted skyward, splaying her arms and twirling. Two champagne bottles were clutched in her hands and those bottles flew from her grip, slamming into the ice-mountains of Alaska surrounding her. She stopped, swayed, laughed. “Oopsie.”

His scowl deepened. A perfect opportunity lost, he realized. Clearly, she was intoxicated. She wouldn’t have fought him. Would have assumed he was a hallucination or that they were playing a game. Having watched her these past few weeks, he knew how much she liked to play games.

“Waster,” her sister, the intruder, grumbled. Though they were twins, Bianka and Kaia looked nothing alike. Kaia had red hair and gray eyes flecked with gold. She was shorter than Bianka, her beauty more delicate. “I had to stalk a collector for days—days!—to steal that. Seriously. You just busted Dom Pérignon White Gold Jeroboam.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” Mist wafted from Bianka’s mouth. “They sell Boone’s Farm in town.”

There was a pause, a sigh. “That’s only acceptable if you also steal me some cheese tots. I used to highjack them from Sabin every day, and now that we’ve left Budapest, I’m in withdrawal.”

Lysander tried to pay attention to the conversation, he really did. But being this close to Bianka was, as always, ruining his concentration. Only her skin was similar to her sister’s, reflecting all the colors of a newly sprung rainbow. So why didn’t he wonder if Kaia’s skin was as soft as it appeared?

Because she is not your temptation. You know this.

There, atop a peak of Devil’s Thumb, he watched as Bianka plopped to her bottom. Frigid mist continued to waft around her, making her look as if she were part of a dream. Or an angel’s nightmare.

“But you know,” Kaia added, “stealing Boone’s Farm in town doesn’t help me now. I’m only partially buzzed and was hoping to be totally and completely smashed by the time the sun set.”

“You should be thanking me, then. You got smashed last night. And the night before. And the night before that.”

Kaia shrugged. “So?”

“So, your life is in a rut. You steal liquor, climb a mountain while drinking and dive off when drunk.”

“Well, then yours is in a rut, too, since you’ve been with me each of those nights.” The redhead frowned. “Still. Maybe you’re right. Maybe we need a change.” She gazed around the majestic summit. “So what new and exciting thing do you want to do now?”

“Complain. Can you believe Gwennie is getting married?” Bianka asked. “And to Sabin, keeper of the demon of Doubt, of all people. Or demons. Whatever.”

Gwennie. Gwendolyn. Their youngest sister.

“I know. It’s weird.” A still-frowning Kaia eased down beside her. “Would you rather be a bridesmaid or be hit by a bus?”

“The bus. No question. That, I’d recover from.”

“Agreed.”

Bianka did not like weddings? Odd. Most females craved them. Still. No need for the bus, Lysander wanted to tell her. You will not be attending your sister’s wedding.

“So which of us will be her maid of honor, do you think?” Kaia asked.

“Not it,” Bianka said, just as Kaia opened her mouth to say the same.

“Damn it!”

Bianka laughed with genuine amusement. “Your duties shouldn’t be too bad. Gwennie’s the nicest of the Skyhawks, after all.”