The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(59)
Author: Gena Showalter

Humans jumped out of the warriors’ way, snatches of gossip and speculation drifting through the moonlight. The angels have come down from their mountain… think they’re after those men who were asking about them, the ones at Club Destiny…

"Men were asking about us," Aeron said, teeth clenched. Even as he spoke, a woman crossed the street to greet them, her expression glazed as she stared at Paris.

"A kiss," she beseeched him.

"Always." Paris smiled and lowered his head to grant her request.

Aeron barked, "Later. Take us to this Club Destiny." If Promiscuity started kissing, Promiscuity would not stop kissing until clothes were shed and passion-cries were ringing.

"Next time," Paris told the woman, regret in his tone, and moved on, leading the way to the club.

"Promise?" she called. But she snapped out of her lust-haze when Lucien passed her, blanching at his scarred face.

A few minutes later, the warriors stood just inside the club’s entrance, surveying the scene. A crowd of humans danced in a fast, gyrating rhythm, multicolored lights pulsing around them. Those who spotted them gasped. Most backed away – angels, indeed. A brave and foolish few stepped closer.

Standing there, Aeron could sense… something. A slight hum of power, perhaps. He frowned.

"See them?" Reyes asked, gaze scanning. His posture was tense. Pain seemed more on edge than ever tonight. His hands were swollen, as if he’d followed Maddox’s lead and ruined an entire room.

"Not yet, but I know they’re here." Aeron fingered the blade hidden at his side. Where are you? Who are you?

"Hello, heaven. Look at those sweet little morsels," Paris said, his voice husky with arousal.

"Mind out of their pants," Reyes snapped.

Aeron wished that were his only worry. Needing sex. Human females regarded him with fear, like the blonde who’d nearly popped a vessel today at the thought of being touched by him. And he was happy about that. They should fear him. He wouldn’t mean to, but he’d chew them up and spit them out in a single bite.

"Five minutes," Paris said, the words thick with pleasure. "That’s all I need."

"Later."

"Now."

"What are you, a child? Your c**k is not a toy, so stop playing with it for one damn night."

"Gods. It can’t be," Lucien suddenly said, his stunned tone ending the squabble. He motioned to the back of the club with a grim tilt of his chin. "Look."

Every gaze followed his to a group who stood near the back of the club, watching them.

Aeron hissed in a breath and palmed one of his blades. Seemed the day’s surprises weren’t over. "Sabin." He had never thought to see Doubt again. The man he’d once considered a friend had held a knife at his throat, had cut and cut deep. "What’s he doing here? Why now – " His words jammed to a halt as the answer hit him. "He’s still warring with the Hunters. He probably brought them to our doorstep."

"Only one way to find out," Lucien said, but none of them moved forward.

Aeron knew why his own feet had turned to lead. That dark, fateful night was playing through his mind.

"We have to kill them," Sabin had screeched. "Look what they did to Baden."

"We have done enough of that," Lucien had replied in that calm voice of his. "We have caused them and their loved ones far more pain than they have brought us."

Cold rage had washed over Sabin’s face. "Does Baden mean nothing to you, then?"

"I loved him just as much as you did, but more destruction will not bring him back," Aeron had spat, turning his back, unable to stand the pain in Sabin’s eyes. Pain that was mirrored inside him. "I cannot take much more, for my heart grows blacker every day. I need peace. Sanctuary."

"I would rather die than allow a single Hunter to live."

"We killed the man who removed his head. Let that be enough."

"Enough? I held Baden’s lifeless body in my arms, his blood seeping all the way to my soul, and you want me to walk away? You are worse than the Hunters." Sabin had attacked then, the blade embedded before Aeron ever sensed it coming.

A fair fight, he could have forgiven. An attack from behind? Hell, no.

After Aeron had fought him off, he’d just wanted to leave. Leave Greece, the war, the hated memories. But Sabin and a few others still had wanted more blood.

That was when the Lords had divided. Irrevocably.

He studied them now, these warriors he knew but didn’t. They appeared the same, though their attire had changed with the times. Gideon had blue hair, an unholy gleam in his electric-blue eyes – a gleam that was more than feral, more than predatory. Reminded Aeron of Lucien the one and only time he’d exploded in a temper, nothing and no one able to restrain him.

Cameo was still the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, but damn if he didn’t want to stab himself in the heart just from looking at her. Strider was still handsome, though the years had etched ruthlessness on the planes of his face. Amun had discarded his robes for a black shirt and jeans.

Where was Kane? Had the Hunters gotten him, too?

Sabin and the others began a slow, steady approach. He kept his eyes on them as he and the others finally moved forward, as well. The two groups met in the middle of the dance floor, humans quickly scrambling out of their way.

"What are you doing here?" Lucien demanded. Aeron noted that he spoke in English, probably so that the dancers would not understand him.

"I could ask you that, as well," Sabin replied in the same language.

"Here to stab someone else in the back, Doubt?" Aeron asked him.

Sabin popped his jaw. "It’s been a couple thousand years, Wrath. Ever heard of a thing called forgiveness?"

"That’s funny coming from you."

A muscle ticked below the warrior’s right eye. "We didn’t come here to fight you. We came to fight Hunters. They’re in town, in case you hadn’t heard."

Aeron snorted. "We heard. Did you lead them here?"

"Hardly." Sabin ran his tongue over his teeth. "They learned about you before we did."

"How?"

Sabin shrugged. "Don’t know."

"I highly doubt you’d travel all the way to Budapest to fight. You could have stayed in Greece for that," Lucien said with the slightest hint of bite in his tone.

"Fine. You want the truth?" Strider splayed his arms, showing he was weaponless. "We need your help."

"Hell, no." Paris shook his head. "We don’t even need to hear how or why, ’cause the answer won’t change."