The Darkest Seduction

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

AFTER A SHORT STINT in the dungeon below the castle, Paris freed himself from the tunnel-visioned gargoyles’ newest restraints and found his friends. As glad as he was to see them, he was also upset by what had gone down while he was away. Ashlyn kidnapped by Galen. Legion trading herself to save the pregnant female. Kane, still missing. No contact. A dead-end trail even Amun now had trouble picking up.

He plopped on a bench someone had dragged into the hallway outside Ashlyn’s room. He was trying to keep himself distracted and calm. Zacharel had Sienna. Had probably shown her to the realm’s exit. She was probably on her way…wherever, her bond to this place at last broken, her will her own.

This was for the best.

The best sucked.

I want her, Sex said with a pout.

Me, too.

“This castle is lacking something,” Viola said as she eased next to him.

She was the first to speak to him in a conversational tone. His friends had been too preoccupied with Ashlyn to do more than bark orders for water, towels and a muzzle for…someone. William probably.

The goddess had given up her I’m-on-the-prowl dress and had changed into a glittery T-shirt and some kind of gray silk pants, the material so sheer he could see her underwear. Okay, so maybe she hadn’t given up the gotta-get-me-some attitude altogether. She’d pulled her pale, silvery hair into a high ponytail, the length swinging with her every movement.

“Hello? Are you listening to me? Of course you’re listening to me! I need permission to redecorate or I’m afraid I’ll have to leave.”

I want her! In just a few seconds, Sex was foaming at the mouth, bouncing around in Paris’s head, desperate for the goddess rather than Sienna. Far more desperate than the demon had ever been, in fact. I need her. I have to have her. Now, now, now.

What was that about? They’d had Sienna earlier this very day. Sex should be shiny new until tomorrow.

Want, I want! Want, want, want!

Paris frowned. When Kaia strode past him a heartbeat later, her hips swaying with her every step, his cock following her like a heat-seeking missile, he really frowned.

Usually when he thought about taking a woman he’d already been with, his erection deflated like a balloon. Or, if he didn’t remember being with a particular woman, he simply couldn’t get hard while he was around her. Surely this didn’t mean…surely he couldn’t…

Want her, need her! Want all of them!

Yeah. He could. He could take Viola (who he hadn’t already had) and Kaia (who he had), Paris realized, his cock twitching with need for both of them. Rather than exciting him, the knowledge filled him with dread.

How was this possible?

Your commitment to Sienna…I don’t know…but I can have them all and I want them all.

But…but…Paris had dreamed of this, of finding a woman and being with her multiple times. Any woman. All women. Sienna, as well as all the others. After his first encounter with Sienna, he’d thought she was his only hope for getting it. He hadn’t understood, but then, he hadn’t cared to understand. He’d accepted and he’d rolled. Yet now that he could have the same with someone else—anyone else, apparently—he still…wanted only Sienna, he realized.

He’d never been with a woman like her. Someone who knew about him, but accepted him anyway. Someone who gave more than she took, even when he wanted her to take more than she gave. Someone with grit and fire who wasn’t afraid to tell him off or apologize when she made a mistake. Someone who fought for what she believed in, did what it took to win, whatever it took. A hated quality once. Admired now.

Suddenly Strider was in his face, navy eyes glittering as he pressed the back of Paris’s head into the wall. “That baton in your pants better be for the goddess next to you and not for the redhead who just walked past you.”

Liked him better when he was preoccupied. Rather than engage the guy further and risk a fight Strider would have to win to stay upright, Paris nodded. “Right. The goddess.” Finally he understood Strider’s annoying possessive streak. How the warrior would kill another man for even looking at what was his. Paris would kill male or female, god or goddess, good or evil, for making a play for Sienna.

There’d been enough truth in his tone to mollify the warrior. “Okay.” As Strider straightened, he cracked the bones in his neck. “Okay, then. We’re good.”

Paris watched him walk away, and caught Gideon’s amused gaze. The keeper of Lies must have sensed the layer of deception. No one smelled a steaming pile faster than Gideon. No matter how small that pile was.

Guilty, Paris looked away. This shouldn’t be happening.

His demon cackled with glee, still wanting, still needing.

He felt dirty and disgusting and ashamed, was suddenly glad Sienna had chosen not to chase after him. If she saw him like this, he would lose it. He needed a shower. Needed to scrub his skin off, layer by layer, until the last drop of blood drained from him.

When the scent of chocolate and champagne began to waft from him, he cursed under his breath. I’m not sleeping with Kaia or Viola or any other woman here. He didn’t give a shit what his body or his demon demanded from him. He wasn’t allowing it. Wasn’t putting up with it. And you can’t make me, can’t lure them. Do you understand? You stop that right now, or I’ll cut off my cock and laugh as we wither away.

But…but…

No! No excuses, no pleading. He wasn’t sleeping with anyone today, tomorrow or the next day. Or even the next. No way. No one but Sienna, he thought with a determination that shocked him. And he didn’t care how weak it made him. His hands still tingled from touching all that soft, warm skin. He still had her sweet, tropical scent in his nose. He wasn’t giving that up, wasn’t welcoming someone else.

“Hello. I’m still here,” Viola said, pouting like a child. “Don’t you care that I might leave if you don’t give me what I want?”

He so didn’t have the patience to deal with her right now. “You can’t leave the castle, okay? This is the safest place for all of you, safer than the Budapest fortress. Galen and his Hunters can’t enter without serious injury, and if they try, we’ll all be alerted.”

Plus, he’d seen the crimson streaks over each of the windows and doors, and knew William had smeared his blood there. That meant the shadow monsters couldn’t come inside again.

“Who said anything about caring for our safety? We need portraits of me there, there and there.” As she spoke, she pointed.

“I’ll be sure and alert the decorator,” he said darkly.

“And there.”

Sex hadn’t yet given up the quest to get inside her, and Paris’s cock did that twitching thing. He gnashed his molars. The goddess was gorgeous, no question about that. Naturally feminine and sensual in a way most could never be, even with centuries of training. And once upon a time, Paris would have been all over her. Cancel out her personality, and she was just the type he used to go for. Lushly curved.

Now, having basked in a satisfaction so complete he would never be the same, settling for anything less held no appeal. Sienna’s lean body did it for him. Made him hunger. Blinded him to others. Her scent, her taste, both had been specifically designed to ramp him so high up no one else could ever hope to reach him.

“You’re beyond maddening,” Viola said.

He was maddening? Right. “You can decorate all you want. Happy?” If he didn’t change the subject, she’d keep that shit up all day and he’d end up introing her tongue to his blade. “So where’s your dog?”

“My little princess is resting in my new room. Travel is so hard on his delicate constitution.”

“Of course.” Because all vampire Tasmanian devils possessed delicate constitutions. And what was up with calling a male “princess?” Paris scrubbed a hand down his face, tired, hungry and torn up inside. Screw this. As soon as he knew Ashlyn and the babies were okay, he was taking off, finding Sienna and making sure she was okay. Then he’d let her go once and for all so that, when he slept with someone else, he wouldn’t be cheating, wouldn’t destroy her sense of trust.

But maybe…maybe he’d be with her one more time first. Sex with her was a revelation, not just because she’d strengthened him, healed him and made him come harder than he ever had in his life, but also because sex with her wasn’t about him. It was about them. Their needs. Their desires.

There was nothing dirty about it. Nothing tainted, one-sided or detached. They touched each other, kissed each other and pleasured each other because it felt good, because passion burned bright and inexorable.

“—listening to me?” Viola threw up her arms in exasperation.

He shook his head, almost told her the truth, and then stopped himself. He did, and her demon would give her fits. She’d probably follow him around like a lost little puppy. “Yeah, uh. I’m fascinated. Interesting stuff.”

Maddox paced back and forth, back and forth in front of him. Reyes tried to stop him with a pat on the shoulder, but the warrior shrugged him off and kept going. Lucien tried next, but Maddox shrugged him aside, too. A mistake. In punishment, Anya tripped him as he passed her.

“Why do I always try to befriend the hopeless causes?” Viola said. “Could you be any more selfish, tuning me out when I have such riveting things to say? Then again, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, you’re married because of me, and you haven’t ever even thanked me.”

“Mmm-hmm. Like I said, fascinating,” Paris said absently. And then her words penetrated. “What’s that now?” He twisted on the bench, pinning her in place with his narrowed stare. “Did you just say the word married in reference to me?”

“That’s right. And I never repeat myself. Except for those times that I do, in fact, repeat myself. But that’s usually only when I’m mentioning how silky my hair is, how sparkly my eyes are and how sexy my body is. Hey, do you think someone has a bag of peanuts? The spicy kind?”

I will not choke the life out of her. “Exactly who am I married to, and when did the supposed ceremony happen?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you again? You’re married to your ghostly girlfriend, the one you tattooed yourself for. That’s how undead marriages are forged. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and all that. Well, that’s how one-sided marriages are forged, anyway. She’s not married to you, so she can tap whoever else she wants without violating any ancient laws and having to endure horrible punishment.”

His jaw creaked open and closed as Viola continued to talk. And talk. “Shut up for a minute. How am I married to Sienna?”

Silence.

But then, Viola’s glare said enough.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just in shock. I can’t be… What you’re saying isn’t… There’s just no way…”

“You are, it is and there is. That’s part of the reason you’re able to interact with her now. You bonded yourself to her.”

Bonded. His mind had short-circuited. He was bonded. He was married to Sienna. She was his. His woman. For real. His wife. Forever.

His.

Wife.

And apparently, despite the fact that his body could now breach any feminine core of his choosing, he couldn’t do so without violating a law he’d never heard of, thereby sentencing himself to some kind of punishment. A punishment he wasn’t sure who would mete out.

His demon’s reaction to the other women now made sense. Sex had been on the right track. With Paris’s commitment to Sienna, his infidelity would now feed the demon. Making love with Sienna would, too, though. He’d married her before finding her, and they’d since made love three times.

“You’re sure?” he croaked when there was a lag in Viola’s monologue. He wanted this, he realized. He wanted this to be true so badly he could taste his own anticipation. Could feel the hum in his blood, the song in his ears. He wanted to be bound to Sienna in the most irrevocable of ways.

Viola patted him on top of his head. “As if I’m ever wrong. But Paris, listen to me. We’ve got to get serious for a minute.”

They weren’t serious already? “So you weren’t serious about the marriage thing?” He would kill her. Just press on her carotid and snuff her out.

“Of course I was serious.” She cupped his cheeks, her expression sad. Then she sniffed, and licked her lips. “Hmm, you smell good.” Closer…closer…she leaned in. Sniffed at his neck. “Really, really good.”

Stupid demon.

“Now tell me the truth,” she said, her voice lowering, going husky. “Do you think I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met? And more important, do I look fat in this outfit?”

“I’m so going to give you to the fallen angel,” he muttered, putting a little distance between them. Her hold on him tightened, her eyes already glazed with want. “That’ll be his punishment for chasing me.”

A slow, confused blink. “The fallen who?”

She didn’t remember her own ardent suitor. Nice.

“What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel this way?” she asked, just before a low moan left her. “I don’t find you attractive, don’t want to rock your world, and yet, I’m ready to climb on board.”

A scream ripped through the entire enclosure, saving Paris from having to form a response. Everyone in the hall stilled, not even daring to breathe.

“Ashlyn.” Maddox rushed toward the bedroom door, but Reyes tackled him.

The keeper of Violence fought for all he was worth, and several other warriors had to dive into the pile to shut him down. Paris was about to join the fray when he caught sight of familiar black wings at the entrance of the hallway.

His gaze shot up, and he met gorgeous hazels that were wider than usual. Sienna’s face was flushed, her eyes red and puffed as if she’d been crying, and her mouth swollen. He was running at her a second later, leaping over the pile of his friends, tripping, getting up, and running some more.

SIENNA WASN’T MAD. What she felt was so beyond mad no single word could describe it. A mix of rage, guilt, sorrow and more rage, maybe. And then some more rage with a splash of heartbreak. And a lot more rage. Her sister was dead, and the queen of the Titans had killed her. Just slit her throat and left her on the floor as if she were garbage.

When Cronus had dropped Sienna here, all she’d wanted was to find Paris and throw herself in his arms. Not to cry, she doubted she’d ever cry again, but to forget, if only for a little while. Instead, she discovered some strange beauty had beaten her to the finish line.

A beauty his friends probably liked. The group had apparently taken over Sienna’s castle, and they were likely to tackle Sienna as they’d just tackled each other if she took a single step in Paris’s direction.

The big, hulking giants were heavily armed, an army of menace, each soldier possessing a feral red gaze that spoke volumes. The main chorus being I’ll smile when I kill you, but they never went for kill strikes. They were simply trying to subdue the one on the bottom of the pile.

What seemed an eternity ago, she had studied these men for nefarious purposes. Seeing them live and in person should have freaked her out. And maybe it would have, if Wrath hadn’t just whipped up a party in her brain, tossing out image after image, all of them involving the handsy blonde.

With her smile, her laugh, her everything, she enticed men to fall in love with her. Their adulation was her nourishment. And then, when she had them at her feet, she left them, just moved on to the next one, and forgot all about them.

That’s what she would do to Paris. And why wouldn’t he fall for her? Sienna wondered. She was the most beautiful woman Sienna had ever seen. Hell, even she was tempted.

Paris appeared in front of her, gathering her in his arms, rubbing his cheek against hers. He smelled of desire she recognized, such heady desire. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You…you…”

“What’s wrong, baby? What happened?”

Glaring up at him, she tugged from his hold. “I’m gone a few hours—” and in that time had decided to be with Galen to save Paris’s life, she thought but didn’t add “—and already you’ve moved on.” She gave a bitter laugh. Even knowing this would happen couldn’t have prepared her for the flood of pain actually seeing it wrought. “You tried to warn me, didn’t you, and I told you I understood.” Well, I don’t!

“Moved on? With Viola?” He grimaced. “Hell, no. We were just talking.”

“Yeah, I know. Your body language said plenty.” Before, she’d only seen his hard-on—and it had been pointed at the blonde. Now she felt it, hard and long and thick, and sweet heaven, she still wanted it. Still wanted him.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of course not!”

“You are. You’re jealous.” He laughed, awe and delight bubbling in the undertones. “Can I just tell you how much that turns me on?”

“Everything turns you on,” she snarled, struggling to dampen her anger. He was just so damned pleased with himself. And her! “And I’m not jealous.”

“You are, and I love it. Anyway, something’s going on with my demon, that’s all. I swear to you, I haven’t been with the goddess and I won’t be. Ever.”

“She’s a goddess?”

“Who holds no appeal for me.”

He could be lying. He could be telling the truth. Actually, he was telling the truth, she decided in an instant, not needing Wrath’s help. Paris wasn’t the type to lie. Consequences weren’t something he feared.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “I shouldn’t have come back.”

“Doesn’t matter? Are you giving up on me? On us?” He gripped her forearms and shook her. “I know we said we’d part when you could leave the realm, but I want to revisit that decision. It’s no longer an option for me. And I know you’re going to have a difficult time believing this, but no matter how my body reacts to others, no matter what my demon wants, you are it for me. Do you understand?” Another shake, harder than before.

“Uh, Paris,” Strider called. “Who you talking to, buddy?”

He twisted, and she peeked around him. The warriors had stopped fighting each other, and everyone but the scarred one and the blonde goddess were eyeing Paris as if he’d just flipped his ever-loving lid.

“They can’t see me,” she said.

He was saved from having to reply to her or his friends when the door in the center of the hall swung open and the dark-haired William stepped into the hall. He was pale, clearly shaken to his soul and bathed in blood.

She gasped. “What happened to him?”

William clapped to gain everyone’s attention. “All right, listen up. I’ve got good news and bad news. Because I’m such a positive person, we’ll start with the good. Ashlyn survived the birthing, and so did her personal horde.”

The hallway echoed with breathy sighs of relief…none louder than Maddox’s own.

“So what’s the bad?” someone demanded.

After a dramatic pause, the warrior said, “I’m out of conditioner. I need someone to flash out of here and get me some. Hint, I’m looking at you, Lucien. And, yeah, you’re welcome for my amazing contrib to your happy family. Little terrors clawed me up but good.”

“William!” someone else snapped. “Stay on track, and keep the unnecessary details to a minimum. We’re dying here.”

“That’s gratitude for you. So anyway, come on, come in, and meet your nephew and niece, Murder and Mayhem. Or, if you want to call them by their nicknames, and I’m sure you will the moment they get their mitts on you, Pistol and Shank.”