The Darkest Seduction
By: Gena Showalter | Other books by Gena Showalter
Published By: HQN
Published: Mar 01, 2012
ISBN # 9780373776573
Available in: Secure Adobe Epub eBook
The Darkest Seduction (Lords of the Underworld) by Gena Showalter - Romance>Paranormal/Horror
At long last, New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter unveils the story of Paris, the darkest and most tormented Lord of the Underworld....
Possessed by the demon of Promiscuity, immortal warrior Paris is irresistibly seductive--but his potent allure comes at a terrible price. Every night he must bed someone new, or weaken and die. And the woman he craves above all others is the one woman he'd thought was forever beyond his reach...until now.
Newly possessed by the demon of Wrath, Sienna Blackstone is racked by a ruthless need to punish those around her. Yet in Paris's arms, the vulnerable beauty finds soul-searing passion and incredible peace. Until a blood feud between ancient enemies heats up.
Will the battle against gods, angels and creatures of the night bind them eternally--or tear them apart?
Paris tossed back three fingers of Glenlivet and signaled the bartender. He wanted an entire hand and by right or might, he'd have it. Except soon after the single malt was poured, he realized an entire hand wasn't going to cut it, either. Fury and frustration were living entities inside him, frothing and bubbling despite his recent fighting.
"Leave the bottle," he said when the bartender made a move to help someone else. Hell, suddenly Paris doubted every drop of alcohol in a ten-mile radius would do the trick, but hey. Desperate times.
"Sure, sure. Anything you say." Shirtless Boy Wonder released the bottle and beat feet.
What? He looked that dangerous? Please. He'd washed off the blood, hadn't he? Wait. Hadn't he? He looked down. Shit. He hadn't. Crimson streaked him from head to toe.
Whatever. He wasn't in a human bar, so no "authorities" would have a beef with him. He was in Olympus, though the heavenly kingdom had recently been renamed Titania. Once only gods and goddesses had been allowed here, but when Cronus reclaimed the realm, he'd changed things, allowing vampires, fallen angels and other creatures of the dark to come and play. A nice little screw you to the previous king, Zeus.
Call the bartender back, Promiscuity said. I want him.
Promiscuity--the demon trapped inside him, driving him. Irritating him. Remember when I wanted fidelity? Monogamy? Paris replied in his mind. Well, we don't always get what we want, do we?
A familiar growl sounded in his head.
Whaa, whaa, pout, pout. He downed the second alcoholic offering and quickly chased it with a third. Both scorched so good he enjoyed a fourth. The potent alcohol razed his chest, burned holes in his abdomen, and flooded his veins. Nice.
And yet, his emotions remained as dark as ever, the edges of that bone-deep fury and frustration un-smoothed. His inability to save a not-so-innocent woman he should hate--did hate, at least a little--but also hungered for, body and soul, drove him, a constant whip against his flank.
"If I asked you to leave, would you?" a monotone voice said from beside him. A voice accompanied by a blast of arctic air.
He didn't have to look to know that Zacharel, warrior angel extraordinaire and infamous demon-assassin, had just joined him. They'd met not long ago, when the feathered axman had come to Buda to off Paris's friend Amun. Had old Zach actually succeeded, two crystal blades would have been drilling into his spine at that very moment.
I want him, the demon said.
Finally. We 're on the same page. Really hate you right now.
Once upon a time, the demon had spoken to Paris with annoying frequency. Then the stupid sex fiend had stopped, merely urging Paris to bed this person or that person, no matter their gender or Paris's own feelings toward them. Now, the talking had started up again and it was worse than before, because he wanted everyone, especially the ones Paris felt no desire for. "Well?" the angel prompted.
"Leave, when I had to beg Lucien to bring me here and I know he won't be so accommodating next time? No, but I'd damn sure want to know why you gave a crap about my location."
"I do not care about your location."
True story. Zacharel didn't care about anything, a fact you learned real fast in your dealings with him. "That's my point, so get lost."
As Paris nursed a fifth whiskey, he studied the smoke-stained mirror in front of him, covertly panning the area...