The Darkest Pleasure (Lords of the Underworld #3)(15)
Author: Gena Showalter

He barely managed to plant his feet into the concrete. "And you do?"

"Of course." Her nails sank deeper, cutting skin, and he nearly moaned at the heady sting. "Lucien tells me everything."

"Guide us, then, but do it now. I won’t spend another second inside this building, and I will break into every shop, home and structure that I encounter if necessary."

"So impatient." She tsked under her tongue and released him. "I admire that in a man. Just…keep up with me. If you can."

With that, she claimed the lead. Everyone else filed out behind her. Overwarm, stuffy air became cool and fragrant, a mix of good and bad aromas: fresh flowers, car exhaust, baked breads and cloying perfume. Multihued lights pulsed from signs – Nude Dancers Here – and horns blared in a hurried symphony. Footsteps clomped in every direction, though nothing overshadowed the frantic dance of Reyes’s heart.

At one time, he had dreamed of traveling, of seeing this new world he’d hidden from for hundreds of years, but he had been bound to Budapest by Maddox’s curse. Now, he didn’t care about the world around him. He just wanted to reach Danika.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

Though he and the others remained in the shade as much as possible, humans did notice them. Some jumped out of their way, some stared. Most grinned, seemingly fascinated. Not the typical mortal reaction; even the Buda townspeople were more respectful than friendly. Hollywood, Sabin had said. Reyes realized these humans thought the men were part of a movie.

A few times, Paris stopped to steal a kiss from a willing female. He was as helpless against his demon as Reyes was, so when Promiscuity wanted to play, Paris took time to play. Otherwise, he weakened unbearably. But for the first time in all their years together, Paris did not look as if he enjoyed the kissing.

Reyes didn’t slow, didn’t wait for his friend or ask him what was wrong. Urgency pounded through him, harder and more intense with every slap of his boots against concrete. Anya turned a corner, her long pale hair a beacon in the night. Down a dirty alley she escorted them, the scent of urine suddenly saturating the air.

When she turned the next corner, she tossed an anticipatory smile over her shoulder. "We’re almost there."

Reyes palmed his gun and a knife. They were so familiar to him, so much a part of him, they were almost a natural extension of his hands. Not much longer now and you’ll see her. Soon, very soon, the battle would begin.

He would not leave a single survivor.

Around him, he could feel the adrenaline surges of his friends. War was a part of them, infused in their every cell. They’d been made for it, after all.

The Greeks, their creators, had known the ease with which a heavenly being could be toppled, for they themselves had fought and imprisoned the Titans. In an effort to protect themselves from the same fate, the Greeks used the blood of the god of war to breed immortal warriors, and thereby an army of defenders.

After the dimOuniak tragedy, with Pandora slain, the box missing and the demons locked inside the warriors responsible, the gods had banished them to earth. New warriors had been recruited to take their place. Not that they’d done the Greeks any good in the end, Reyes thought with a satisfied smile.

"Just a bit more…" Anya breathed, excited. There was no better replacement for Maddox. Anya adored violence.

A large trash can burned ahead, the golden flames flickering, smoke billowing. Four men stood around it, one holding out a spoon, melting a small, solid mass into bubbling liquid. With his free hand, he used a syringe to suck that liquid up. The others awaited their turn.

Drugs. How Reyes wished they worked on him. But he’d tried all of them, from smoking to pills, drowning in liquids, injecting his veins with needles. Nothing had dulled his need for pain.

Anya stopped abruptly at the end of the alley. Lucien was there, stepping from the shadows. He and Anya shared a kiss, Lucien’s arm automatically winding around her waist as it did every time they were together.

Reyes glanced away from them, the sight of their love too much to witness at the moment. Who are you trying to fool? It’s too much at every moment.

The alley forked into three sections: left, straight and right. Five buildings glared at him in a half moon. He didn’t need to ask which held Danika. Suddenly he could smell her thunderstorm scent. He could feel her fear all the way to the marrow of his bones, as if it pulsed from the redbrick shop in front of him.

A weapons store. How appropriate. And ironic. With all their talk of peace, the Hunters should have picked a church.

"There are private rooms above the public one. She is up there," Lucien said, his tone grim. "The men have been strangely silent, almost as if they knew I was there, waiting."

Bile rose in Reyes’s throat. "Is she…still alive?" The words would barely form.

"Yes."

He gulped. Something about Lucien’s inflection did not settle well inside him. "But?"

"She is still sleeping."

His fingers clenched around his weapons. "How many Hunters are in the building now?"

"Twelve. Several have already left."

"Their leader?"

"One of the absent."

Bastard. Reyes would find him, though. Soon. Once Danika was safe, there would be no stopping his wrath.

"There is a man who appears to be guarding her," Lucien said. "He has barely left her side. He’s there now, watching her sleep."

"Has he…did he…touch her?"

"Not in anger."

Then in what? Lust? "Was she raped?" Reyes’s teeth gnashed together with a dark need to strike.

"I do not know."

"He is mine." Despite the false calm in his voice, he left no doubt of his intention. "No one else even approaches him."

Lucien nodded. "Very well. The time for battle has arrived."

Ready, Reyes pushed past his friends and stalked to the building. When he entered, a bell tinkled merrily, announcing his presence. The human behind the counter was in the process of smiling – until he spotted Reyes’s harsh countenance. The smile froze midway and hate filled the Hunter’s eyes.

To Reyes’s knowledge, they had never met, but they instantly recognized each other for what they were: enemies.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

"Where is she?"

"You killed my son, demon."

"I’ve never met your son, Hunter."

"You’re a cancer upon this earth, all of you, and you’re responsible for every death. Not for much longer, though. Long live the Hunters!" As though he’d been expecting Reyes all along, the man lifted a semiautomatic with a silencer.