The Darkest Seduction (Lords of the Underworld #9)(42)
Author: Gena Showalter

Deciding not to wait for Lucien’s reply, Viola snuck out of the room. No one noticed, and that once again pricked at Narci.

Be a good girl, she told her other half, and I’ll show you how pretty you are.

The demon bounced up and down inside her head. When?

Soon.

Now. A whine.

Soon.

Now. A demand.

Never.

Soon? Another whine.

Soon. You drive a hard bargain. Viola followed Legion’s spiritual trail—Lucien wasn’t the only one with such a talent—flashing herself into the bedroom. The girl was pacing, her hair flying wildly behind her. She hadn’t abandoned the blanket, but clutched the material ever closer.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. I can’t leave. I can’t go to him.”

“Legion,” Viola said gently. Yes, she was uncomfortable with other people’s feelings, but she’d peered at this broken doll’s soul and wanted to help.

How odd. Once, Viola had fed on souls, on their energy. She had drained them, ended them. One day, though, she’d taken the wrong soul at the wrong time—the only terrible memory she’d managed to retain—and found herself imprisoned in Tartarus. Then, of course, she was paired with Narci and the only soul she’d been able to feed on was her own.

Like an immortal’s limb, her soul kept growing back and she kept feeding on it, but it never grew back in its entirety because she never actually stopped eating. For lack of a better word. So, basically, she was half of a person, as well as a spiritual cannibal, and she never ever concerned herself with others.

Why had she come here again? She should leave.

Those dark eyes found her, tears catching in equally dark lashes, and Viola’s feet rooted in place. “I can’t. I can’t do it. I can’t do it. He’ll want to touch me. Hurt me. I…can’t.”

Legion raced to her bathroom, hunched over the toilet and vomited. Viola’s feet tugged free, but still she didn’t leave. She walked into the bathroom and held back the girl’s hair, only to realize she hadn’t actually vomited. She had dry heaved. Poor thing. She probably hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks.

Hours seemed to tick by in endless misery. Between each of her heaves, the girl sobbed. And when she wasn’t sobbing, she was shaking so violently her teeth chattered. No one ever came to the door, and Viola decided the Lords had opted not to trade the girl for Ashlyn’s safe return.

Finally, blessedly, Legion’s outburst drained her. She slumped over the toilet, her tear ducts tapped out.

Viola stepped away, and those red, swollen eyes followed her.

I really must leave now, she thought. She’d stayed far too long, the sense of unease returning. “I’ll tell the warriors you’re a no-go, okay?” Maddox might try and slay her for her efforts, but Narci would dig the attention, so whatever.

“I can’t go, I can’t go,” Legion whispered. “He was here, I smelled him, knew he was here, but I couldn’t make my voice work, haven’t spoken since I got here, couldn’t even scream, even though I wanted to scream and scream and scream. I hid under the bed. I should have screamed, I should have screamed.”

Her words were heavy on the guilt, an emotion Viola refused to tangle with. “Yeah, so, uh, good luck with that. It was nice meeting you and everything.” One step, two, she backed her way out. She didn’t do the friendship thing. Ever. With anyone. Especially not broken china dolls that would require way too much time and effort.

Legion’s tear ducts clearly hadn’t dried, because a new waterfall began. “I can’t leave Ashlyn with him, either.” She sniffled, gulped. “Ashlyn is so nice, and the babies, she let me feel them kick once. She’s due any day. She needs to be home. Maddox needs her to be home. What should I do?”

So badly Viola wanted to reach for her phone, Screech the question and follow the ensuing flood of advice, but much as she yearned to leave this room, she wanted to stay in the fortress.

For all their faults, the Lords hadn’t tried to take advantage of her. Hadn’t tricked her into looking into a mirror, and they utterly adored her. And okay, maybe that last one wasn’t the truth and merely came courtesy of her demon, but nothing was a lie if you believed it. Therefore, the Lords did, in fact, adore her.

“I think you should, uh, follow your heart?” Oh, ick. That sucked. Like, majorly. The girl didn’t know what her heart wanted, which was why she was asking for guidance.

“What would you do?” Legion asked.

She could weave a pretty speech about always being willing to help others, Viola supposed. The guys downstairs would probably prefer that. Only problem was, lying to anyone but herself created messes. Viola hated messes.

“I would save myself, no matter the cost to those around me. But then, I’ve only ever cared about myself, so…” She shrugged. “It’s up to you. Who do you love more? Yourself, or the ones who took you in?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

STRIPPED AND PINNED to a boulder, Kane gritted his teeth at the humiliation. Hadn���t taken the minions long to catch him after he’d bolted. His innocent little chosen had been the worst of the lot, ripping out his Achilles tendons, hobbling him.

Now everyone in the crowd took turns attempting to steal what he’d refused to give.

He wouldn’t give them what they wanted. He wouldn’t. But how much longer could he survive the torment? The pressure was building, so intense it was painful.

You’ve survived this kind of thing before. He could survive this. Breathe, just breathe. His lids were squeezed together, his blood molten in his veins. All the while, his demon laughed inside his head. Laughed. Enjoying the disaster as it happened.

Maybe surviving wasn’t the right path, he thought, the humiliation morphing into rage. Kane had never liked his demon, but now, now he hated the creature with every fiber of his being. He wanted to be free of it, and that meant dying. He wanted to punish Disaster for taking pleasure in his misery, regardless of the fate that would befall him.

And he would. Yeah. He would do some punishing. No matter what he had to do achieve the desired end, he would do.

PARIS CROWDED SIENNA into the wall, leaned down and got in her face. Her breath emerged choppily, her eyes were wild and her pupils dilated with panic. Sex enjoyed the contact, was already begging for more. Paris tuned him out and kept things as nonsexual as possible. Sienna was too upset for more.

“You have to hide,” she said, the words emerging brokenly. “I’ll try to draw them to me, away from everyone else. Okay? Yes? But you really, really have to hide.”