Lords of the Underworld

In a remote fortress in Budapest, six immortal warriors – each more dangerously seductive than the last – are bound by an ancient curse none has been able to break. When a powerful enemy returns, they will travel the world in search of a sacred relic of the gods – one that threatens to destroy them all.

Gena Showalter’s new paranormal series

LORDS OF THE UNDERWORLD

continues with

DARK BEGINNINGS

containing three stories and a bonus guide to the Underworld!

Also available in this series

THE DARKEST NIGHT

THE DARKEST KISS

THE DARKEST WHISPER

THE DARKEST PLEASURE

And don’t miss the next Lords of the Underworld book

THE DARKEST PASSION

Coming next month from MIRA®

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Gena Showalter has been praised for her “sizzling page turners” and “utterly spellbinding stories”. She is the author of more than seventeen novels and anthologies, including breathtaking paranormal and contemporary romances, cutting-edge young adult novels, and stunning urban fantasy. Readers can’t get enough of her trademark wit and singular imagination.

To learn more about Gena and her books, please visit www.genashowalter.com and www.genashowalter blogspot.com.

Dark Beginnings
Gena Showalter

www.mirabooks.co.uk

THE DARKEST FIRE

CHAPTER ONE

EVERY DAY FOR HUNDREDS of years the goddess had visited Hell and every day Geryon had watched her from his station, desire heating his blood more than the flames of damnation beyond his post ever had. He should not have studied her that first time and should have kept his gaze downcast all the times since. He was a slave to the prince of darkness, spawned by evil; she was a goddess, created in light.

He could not have her, he thought, hands fisting. No matter how much he might wish otherwise. She would not want him anyway. This…obsession was pointless and brought him nothing but despair. He did not need more despair.

And yet, still he watched her this day as she floated through the barren cavern, coral-tipped fingers tracing the jagged stones that separated underground from underworld. Golden ringlets flowed down her elegant back and framed a face so perfect, so lovely, Aphrodite herself could not compare. Eyes of starlight narrowed, a rosy color blooming in those cheeks of smooth alabaster.

“The wall is cracked,” she said, her voice like a song amid the hiss of nearby flames—and the unnatural screams that always accompanied them.

He shook his head, positive he had merely imagined the words. In all their centuries together, they had never spoken, never deviated from their routine. As the Guardian of Hell, he ensured the gate remained closed until a spirit needed to be cast inside. That way, no one and nothing escaped—and if they tried, he rendered punishment. As the goddess of Oppression, she fortified the physical barrier with only a touch. Silence was never breeched.

Uncertainty darkened her features. “Have you nothing to say?”

She stood in front of him a moment later, though he never saw her move. The scent of honeysuckle suddenly overshadowed the stink of sulfur and melting flesh, and he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in ecstasy. Oh, that she would remain just as she was…

“Guardian,” she prompted.

“Goddess.” He forced his lids to open gradually, slowly revealing the glow of her beauty. Up close, she was not as perfect as he had thought. She was better. A smattering of freckles dotted her sweetly sloped nose, and dimples appeared with the curve of her half-smile. Exquisite.

What did she think of him? he wondered.

She probably thought him a monster, hideous and misshapen. Which he was. But if she thought so, she did not show it. Only curiosity rested in those starlight eyes. For the wall, he suspected, not for him. Even when he’d been human, women had wanted nothing to do with him. They’d run from him the moment he’d turned his attention to them. He’d been too tall, too brawny, too bumbling. And that was before he’d resembled an ogre.

Sometimes he wondered if he’d been tainted at birth.

“Those cracks were not there yesterday,” she said. “What has caused such damage? And so swiftly?”

“A horde of Demon Lords rise from the pit daily and fight to break out. They have grown tired of their confinement here and seek living humans to torment.”

She accepted the news without reaction. “Have you their names?”

He nodded. He did not need to see beyond the gate to know who visited on the other side; he sensed it. Always. “Violence, Death, Lies, Doubt, Misery. Shall I go on?”

“No,” she said softly. “I understand. The worst of the worst.”

“Yes. They bang and they claw from the other side, desperate to reach the mortal realm.”

“Well, stop them.” A command, laced with husky entreaty.

If only. He would have given up the last vestiges of his humanity to do as she wished. Anything to repay the daily gift of her presence. Anything to keep her just where she was, prolonging the sweetness of her scent. “I am forbidden to leave my post, just as I am forbidden to open the gates for any reason but allowing one of the damned inside. I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”

Besides, the only way to stop a determined demon was to kill it, and killing a High Lord was another forbidden act.

A sigh slipped from her. “Do you always do as you’re told?”

“Always.” Once he had fought the invisible ties that bound him. Once, but no longer. To fight was to invite pain and suffering—not for him, but for others. Innocent humans who resembled his mother, his father and his brothers—because his true mother, father and brothers had already been slain—were brought here and tortured in front of him. The screams…oh, the screams. Far worse than the ones that seeped from Hell. And the sights…He shuddered.

Had the pain and suffering been heaped upon him, he would not have cared. Would have laughed and fought all the harder. What was a little more pain? But Lucifer, brother to Hades and prince of the demons, needed him healthy, whole, so had found other ways to gain his cooperation.

The memories would forever haunt him, but might have faded during the night, if he’d required sleep. He remained awake, however, every hour of every day, never able to forget.

“Obedience. I expected differently from you,” she said. “You are a warrior, so strong and assured.”

Yes, he was a warrior. But he was also a slave. One did not cancel out the other. “I am sorry, goddess. My strength and assurance change nothing.”

“I will pay you to help me,” she insisted. “Name your price. Whatever you desire shall be yours.”

If only, Geryon thought again. He would ask for a single taste of her lips.

Why limit himself, though? he wondered next. Whatever he desired. He could ask for a night in her arms. Naked. Touching. Tasting. Yes. Yes. Every muscle in his body clenched. In arousal. In desperation.

In despair.

No. He could not risk the suffering of the innocent—why do you bother with them?—simply to sate his craving for the lovely goddess. So have a kiss? A night with her? No again.

Finally I know true torture. He ground his teeth. Why did he bother? Because without good, there would be only evil. And he had seen too much evil over the centuries. He would not be responsible for more.

“Guardian?” the goddess prompted. “Anything.”

CHAPTER TWO

DO NOT SPEAK. DO NOT DO THIS. Geryon gulped. “I am sorry, goddess.” No. Say no more. Ask for that kiss, at the very least. “As I told you, I cannot help you.” No, no, no.

How he hated himself just then.

Her delicate shoulders sagged in disappointment, and his self-hatred grew. “But…why? You want to keep the demons in Hell just as much as I do. Right?”

“Right.” Geryon didn’t want to tell her his reasons for refusing her, was still ashamed after all this time. Tell her, however, he would. Perhaps then she would return to the old ways and pretend he did not exist. As it was, his craving for her was deepening, intensifying, his body hardening. Readying.

She’s not for you.

How many times would he need the reminder before this conversation ended?

“I sold my soul,” he admitted. He had been one of the first humans to walk the earth. Despite his massive build and bumbling ways, he’d been content with his lot and enraptured by his mate, even though she’d been chosen by his family and, like all the other females of his acquaintance, had not desired him in return.

A year into their marriage, she had grown sick, and he had despaired. Though she had found no joy with him, she had belonged to him, and ensuring her safety and well-being had been his duty. So he had cried out to the gods for assistance.

They had ignored him, and his despair became unbearable.

That was when Lucifer appeared before him. So cunning, that one was.

To save his mate—and perhaps finally win her heart—Geryon had willingly given himself to the dark prince. And found himself transformed from man to beast. Horns had sprouted atop his head, and his hands had become clubs, his nails claws. Dark, carmine fur had covered the skin on his legs, while hooves replaced his feet.

In seconds, he’d been more animal than human.

His wife had healed, as his contract with Lucifer stated, but she had not softened toward Geryon. No, his selfless act had meant nothing to her and she had left him for another man. A man she had apparently been seeing all along.

What a fool he’d been. A cuckold. All for nothing.

“What thoughts fill your head, Guardian? Never have you appeared so…broken.”

The goddess. His hands fisted, claws digging deep into his palms, as he refocused on her. There had been compassion in her tone. Compassion he must ignore. Unemotional, that’s how he had to be. Always. Otherwise, he would not survive his time here.

“My actions are no longer mine to command. No matter how I wish otherwise, I cannot help you. Now please. Don’t you have duties to attend to?”

“I am doing my duty now. Are you?”

He flushed.

She sighed. “Forgive my waspishness. I am frazzled.” The goddess studied him, her head tilting to the side. He shifted uncomfortably, such scrutiny unnerving given his sickening appearance. To his surprise, revulsion did not darken her lovely gaze as she said, “Your soul belongs to the dark prince?”

“Yes.”

“And if your soul was returned to you, you would aid me?”

“Yes,” he repeated, the word a croak. Would she still offer him a boon for that aid?

“Very well. I will see what I can do.”

His eyes widened in horror. Approach Lucifer? “No, you must—”

She disappeared before he could stop her.

Inner Corridors of Hell

“LUCIFER, HEAR ME WELL. I demand to speak with you. You will appear before me. This day, in this room. Alone. I will remain exactly as I am.” Kadence, goddess of Oppression, knew to state her wants precisely or the demon prince would “interpret” them however he wished. “And you will be clothed.”

Were she simply to demand an audience, he might whisk her to his bed, her arms and legs tied, her clothing gone, a legion of fiends surrounding her.

Several minutes ticked by and there was no response to her summons. But then, she’d known there wouldn’t be. He enjoyed making her wait. Made him feel powerful. Keep busy. Act as if you do not care.

Kadence eyed her surroundings, as if studying them was exactly what she’d come to do. Rather than stone and mortar, the walls of Lucifer’s palace were comprised of flames. Crackling, orange-gold. Deadly.

His throne was comprised of bone, ash and more of those flames. Off to the side was a bloodstained altar. A lifeless body still lay across it—minus a head. The head would reattach all too soon, however, so that the torturing could begin anew. That was the way of it here.

No soul would escape. Even in death.

She hated everything about this place. Plumes of black smoke wafted from the blazes, curling around her like fingers of the damned. So badly she wanted to wave her hand in front of her nose, but she did not. She wouldn’t show weakness—even with so small an action.

Did she dare, she knew she would find herself drowning in the noxious fumes. Lucifer loved nothing more than exploiting vulnerabilities.

Kadence had learned that lesson well. The first time she had visited, she’d come to inform both Hades and Lucifer that she had been appointed their warden. As one who embodied the essence of subjugation and conquest, there was no one better to ensure that demons and dead alike remained here.

Or so the gods had thought, which was why they’d chosen her for this task.

She had not agreed, but refusing them would have invited punishment. Many times since accepting, however, she’d thought perhaps punishment would have been better. Having stones thrown at her, bloody carcasses left on her doorstep in warning…they hardly compared to spending her days sleeping in a nearby cave—not a true sleep but a watchful one, her mind’s eye drifting over the different demon camps. Could hardly compare to spending her nights surveying a wall of rock.

As the Guardian watched.

That, however, was not such a hardship.

For many years, his attention had unnerved her, for he was unlike anyone she had ever met: half man, half beast, all…edge. But then she’d come to find comfort in his detached gaze. He protected her from demons and souls who slipped through the gate, attacking everyone in their path. No matter the harm to himself.

She could do no less for him.

I sold my soul, he’d said. For what? she wondered. What had he received in return? Did he consider the trade a good one? She’d wanted to ask him, but had recalled how uncomfortable he had been with her questions about the wall. He would not have welcomed a discussion about something so personal.

And that was probably for the best. Only her job mattered right now. How could she not have known demon High Lords were determined to escape forever?

Had Lucifer somehow blocked her visions of this realm? He was the only one strong enough to do so. If so, what did he hope to gain? Were she to ask, he would merely lie, that much she knew.

She’d never felt more helpless.

No, that wasn’t true. During her first visit, Lucifer had sensed her trepidation—and he’d since used every opportunity to nurture it. A fire-coated touch here, a wicked taunt there. Every time she had come here to report an infraction, she had wilted under his attentions.

That had disappointed the gods. They would have called her home, she was sure, had they not already bound her to the wall, an act that had been meant to help with her duties, not hinder them. But not even the gods had known just how deeply the bond would go. Rather than simply sensing when the wall needed fortification, she’d realized it was her reason for living.

Her blood now sang with its essence.

The first time one of the demons had scratched it, she’d felt the sting and had gasped, shocked. Now, it no longer shocked her, though she still felt every contact. When a soul brushed it, her skin felt tickled. When the inferno licked at it, she felt burned. So why had she not sensed these latest ministrations?

Oh, she’d felt her body draining of strength, little by little, pains shooting through her seemingly for no reason, but her visions had been calm. Well, as calm as such visions could be, considering what she was forced to witness on a daily basis.

Now, at least, she knew why she’d hurt. Bound as she was to this dark underworld, that crack in the outer wall was literally killing her.

You are losing focus. Concentrate! Distraction could cost her. Dearly. And the outcome of this meeting was more important than any that had come before it.

From outside the palace she could hear the crazed laughter of the demons, the moans of the tortured and the sizzle of flesh pouring from bone. And the smell…it was a hell all its own.

It was difficult, remaining stoic amidst such vileness. Especially now. The High Lords must have been working on the wall for weeks. Because if her side was cracked, she shuddered to think of the damage on Hell’s side. At the very least, she should have seen the demons approach. But again, her visions had remained calm.

Enough of this. Clearly, she could not concentrate.

“Lucifer,” she called again. “You heard my demands. Now heed them. Or I will leave and you will miss this opportunity to bargain.”

The pound of footsteps suddenly echoed and the flames several feet in front of her parted. Finally. In strolled Lucifer, as carefree as a summer day.

“Yes, I did hear them,” he said in the silkiest of voices. He even grinned, the expression pure wickedness. “You mentioned a bargain? What can I do for you, my darling?”

CHAPTER THREE

KADENCE DIDN’T ALLOW herself to shudder.

Lucifer was tall, muscled like a warrior and sensually handsome despite the dark inferno raging in his eyes. But he did not compare to the beast who guarded his domain. The beast whose face was too rough to be considered anything other than savage. The beast whose massive body should have frightened her but only made her feel safe. The beast whose monstrous appearance should have disgusted her but didn’t. Instead, his brown eyes—eyes she’d once considered impassive, but after today, now saw as haunted—captivated her. And, of course, his protective nature intrigued her.

She might never have become interested in the Guardian, might have continued to assume he was like every other hated creature here, but then he’d saved her life that first time. Sadly, even immortal goddesses could be slain—a prospect that had never been clearer as the outer gates had parted to welcome a spirit and a minion slipped free, racing toward her, hungry for living flesh.

She’d frozen, knowing her death was imminent.

The Guardian—what was his name?—had intervened, destroying the fiend with one swipe of his poisoned claw before it had made contact with her. He hadn’t spoken to her afterward, and she hadn’t spoken to him, her belief that he was like all the other creatures in this underworld shaken but not yet completely broken.

She’d begun to study him, though. Over time, she’d become fascinated by his complexities.

He was a destroyer, yet he’d saved her. He had nothing, yet he hadn’t asked for anything in exchange. How rare that was. How strange. How…welcome. She now wanted to do something for him. Anything, as she’d told him. And for one stolen moment, she’d thought he meant to request a kiss. His gaze had fallen to her lips, and lingered. Utter longing had radiated from him.

Please, she had almost begged. Her heart rate had sped up, her mouth had watered. What would he taste like? But then his expression had cleared, he had looked away and shaken his head. No.

Her disappointment had nearly felled her. Push him, however, she would not do. He’d already done so much for her. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder, hope…did he favor her in return? For that stolen moment, she would have sworn she saw white-hot flames in his eyes, flames that had nothing to do with the damned.

“Am I so boring you cannot grant me your attention after you summoned me? Twice.”

The question returned her to the present, and she could have slapped herself. Do you want to lose this match of wits with the prince of darkness? “Boring?” She shrugged. To say yes would be asking him to liven things up. To say no would be telling him she enjoyed him. In his mind, at least. Neither would end well for her.

Lucifer regarded her silently as he settled atop his throne. Instantly, swirling, ghostly souls began writhing between the bones and ash. A bejeweled goblet materialized, already clutched in his hand, and he sipped from it. A drop of crimson slid down the corner of his mouth and trickled onto his stark white shirt. Blood.

Revulsion besieged her, but she kept her expression neutral.

“You are disgusted by me but do not show it,” he said with another of those wicked smiles. “Where is the mouse who usually visits? The one who trembles and stumbles over her words? I like her better.”

Kadence raised her chin. He could call her all the names he wished, but she wouldn’t comment. “Your walls have been compromised, and a horde of demons fights to escape.”

The prince quickly lost his smile. “You lie. They would not dare.”

His agitation was understandable. Without his legions, he would have no one to rule. “You’re right. Your band of thieves, rapists and murderers would not dare disobey their sovereign.”

His eyes narrowed in a show of anger. One he quickly masked by shrugging casually. “So the walls are compromised. What do you expect me to do about it?”

She should not have been surprised. Always he made things difficult. “The Guardian. He can help me stop the ones responsible. But as you own his soul, he must first gain your permission.”

Lucifer snorted. “No. I will not grant it. Not for any reason. I like him where he is.”

Yes. Difficult. “Why?”

“I need a reason? Well, then. Let’s see. Let’s see.” He tapped his chin with a fingertip. “What about, my last guard fell victim to a demon’s lies and almost allowed a legion to escape.”

A lie of his own? The Guardian she knew had been here far longer than she, so she did not know if anyone else had ever stood in his place. “This one could just as easily fall.” Now that was a lie. No one was more determined. There would be no falling. Not for him.

“No.” Lucifer shook his head. “Geryon is impervious to their wiles.”

Geryon. Finally. A name. Greek in origin, meaning monster.

She didn’t like it.

He was more than his appearance. Far more.

“Nothing else to say?” Lucifer asked. “Shall we part, then?”

She barely stopped herself from running her tongue over her teeth. Was this a game he played? He needed the wall repaired as much as she did. Well, not as much as she did, she mused. Unlike her, he would not die if the wall crumbled. Still. His resistance grated.

With that thought, she answered her own question. Yes, this was a game. One she would not tolerate. “I am your sovereign,” she said. “You will—”

“You are not my sovereign,” he growled in another display of anger. Another display he quickly hid. A single breath in and out, and he visibly calmed. “You are my…observer. You watch, you advise and you protect, but you do not command.”

Because you are too weak, he did not say. But then, he didn’t have to. They both knew it was true.

She wanted to be different. Strong. She truly did. And she should have been. Once, she had been. Her very nature was one of subjugation, after all. For others, though, and not herself. Or that’s the way it had been. Why was she like this now?

You know the answer, and you would do well to forget it.

She squared her shoulders, realizing she would have to play Lucifer’s game, after all. There was no other way. You can do this. For Geryon. “I believe I offered to bargain with you, and you were amenable. Shall we begin?” she asked silkily.

He nodded, as if he’d merely been waiting for the question all along. “We shall.”

Gates of Hell

“I DO NOT UNDERSTAND,” Geryon said, refusing to leave his post. He even crossed his arms over his chest, an action that reminded him of his human days, when he’d been more than guard, more than monster. “Lucifer would never have agreed to release me from his…care.”

“I promise you, he agreed. You are free.” The goddess cast her gaze to her sandaled feet, saying no more on the subject. “Finally.”

Did she hide something? Plan to trick him, for whatever reason? It had been so long since he’d dealt with a female, he wasn’t sure how to judge her actions. Her, though, he wanted to believe. Anything and everything she said. And that was what scared him most.

She could destroy him and his poor heart. Or rather, what remained of it. If anything did.

She was paler than usual, he noted, the rosy glow in her cheeks gone, her freckles stark. Her golden ringlets tumbled down her shoulders and arms, and he could see soot woven throughout the fine strands. His hands ached to reach out, to sift those tresses through his fingers.

Would she run screaming if he did so? Probably.

Today she wore a violet robe and matching necklace—a necklace that boasted a teardrop amethyst as large as his fist and as bright as the glistening ice of his homeland. Ice he had not seen in hundreds of years. She had never worn such a thing before; usually she draped herself in white, an angel among evil, with no adornment.

“How?” he persisted. “Why?” And why do you look so sad?

“Does it matter?” Her gaze lifted, boring into him with the precision of a spear and cutting just as deep.

There was fury blended with her sadness. He did not like either. This female should only ever be happy. “To me, yes.” But only because it was necessary to his survival. Anything else, and he might have caved then and there. Given her whatever she desired. Even follow her into the fires behind him, as she’d first requested.

She gave a little stomp of her foot. “To save the wall, I need your help. Let that be enough of an answer for now. You know Lucifer would not want it to fall.” Her fingers beckoned him. “Come. See the damage that has been done on this side. See why I must cross over.”

The goddess did not await his reply. She turned away from him and walked to the far corner of the wall. No, not walked. She glided, a dream of falling stars amid shimmering twilight.

Why do you want to survive? What good does living do you? Geryon hesitated only a moment before following her, breathing deeply of her honeysuckle scent along the way.

To his surprise, no one jumped from the shadows as he walked; no one waited to punish him for daring to leave his post. Was he truly free? Dare he hope?

The goddess didn’t face him when he reached her, but traced a fingertip along a thin, jagged groove in the middle stone. A groove that branched into smaller striations, like tiny rivers flowing from a churning ocean.

“It’s small, I know, but already it has grown from what I saw yesterday. If the demons continue their abuse, it will continue to grow until the rock splits completely in two, allowing legions to enter the human realm.”

“Were a single demon released upon the unsuspecting world,” he muttered, “death and destruction would reign.” Whether or not a punishment would be delivered to him, he would help her, Geryon decided. He could not allow such a thing to happen. Innocence should never be taken from the undeserving. It was too precious.

“If I do this…If I help you…”

Still she didn’t face him. “Yes?” A breathy sigh.

“I will earn that boon? Whatever I desire?” How selfish he was to ask, he thought, but he did not take the words back.

“Yes.” No hesitation. Still breathy.

What did she think he would ask for? “Then so be it. I accept. I will lead you into Hell, goddess.”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE GODDESS GAVE A STARTLED gasp and flicked him the briefest of glances. “You’ll help me? Even knowing you are no longer bound to the prince? That you could leave?”

His chest constricted at that glimpse of starlight eyes and lush red lips. “Yes. Even knowing.” If she spoke true and he was free, he had no place to go. Too many centuries had passed, and his home was now gone. His family, dead. Without a doubt, he would cause riots with his appearance. Besides, he might crave the very freedom the goddess promised but he still feared trusting her. She might not intend malice, but Lucifer certainly would.

With the prince, there was always a catch. Free today did not necessarily mean free tomorrow. And since his soul had not been returned to him…

No, he dare not hope.

“Thank you. I didn’t expect—I—Why did you sell your soul?” she asked softly, tracing the crack again.

A change of subject. One he was not prepared for.

“What would you have me do?” he asked rather than answer. He did not wish to admit the reason for his folly and the subsequent humiliation.

Her arm dropped to her side, and she faced him fully. As his gaze drank her in, her expression softened. “I am Kadence,” she said, as though he had asked for her name rather than instruction.

Kadence. How he loved the way the syllables rolled through his mind, smooth as velvet—gods, how long since he’d touched a material so fine?—and sweet as wine. How long since he’d tasted such a drink?

“I am Geryon.” Once, he’d had a different name. Upon arriving here, however, Lucifer had given him his current moniker. Monster was the literal translation, but in truth it meant Guardian of the Damned, which was what he was and all he would ever be. Soul or not.

Some legends, a demon had once jeered at him, proclaimed him to be a three-headed centaur. Some, a vicious dog. Some, the leavings of a warrior named Hercules. Anything was better than the truth, however, so he did not mind the stories.

“I am yours to command,” he said, adding, “Kadence.” Tasted even better on his tongue.

Breath caught in her throat; he heard the hitch of it. “You say my name like a prayer.” There was no astonishment in her tone. Only…uncertainty?

Had he done so? “I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Her cheeks flushed prettily. Then she clapped her hands and brought the conversation back to what should have been their primary concern. “Our first order of business is to patch those cracks.”

He nodded but said, “I fear the wall is already compromised.” Outer damage was fixable. But not inner. In walls or in immortals, he thought, thinking of the inner scars he must bare. “Patching will merely strengthen it for a time.” But might not prevent an eventual fall, he did not add.

What they would do then, he did not know. Chaos would reign. Souls and demons would be able to leave at will.

Something more would have to be done. But again, he did not know what.

“Yes. Knowing demons as I have come to, they will return and inflict more damage.” Once more she lifted her gaze to him, kernels of fear swirling where there should only be satisfaction. A crime. “Geryon,” she began, only to press her lush lips together.

What was left of his heart skidded to an abrupt stop. She was just so lovely, her gentleness and goodness setting her apart from everything he represented. He wanted to duck his head, hide his ugliness from her. “Yes?”

“I—I—”

Why so uncomfortable? “You may speak freely with me, goddess.” Whatever she needed, he would provide.

“Kadence. Please.”

“Kadence,” he said again, and savored. So good…

“I—What boon would you ask of me?”

That was not what she’d meant to ask, he knew it, and could only gape at her, trying not to panic. He had hoped to discuss this after. “A…a kiss.” He waited for her screech of horror. Her denial.

Instead, she merely opened her mouth in a wide O.

“You may close your eyes and imagine you are with someone else,” he rushed out. “Or refuse me. I would understand.” Stop talking. You’re only making things worse.

“I would not refuse,” she said softly, huskily.

“I—I—” Now he was the one to stutter. She would not refuse?

She licked her lips. “Shall I give you a kiss now?”

Now? Suddenly he had trouble breathing. Standing. His knees were shaking, his limbs as heavy as boulders. Dark spots winked over his vision. Now? he wondered again, wildly this time.

He was not ready. He would make a fool of himself, and she would leave him. No longer want his help. Or worse, she would cast him pitying, disgusted glances the entire time they worked.

“After,” he managed to croak.

Was that…disappointment clouding her expression? Surely not.

“Very well,” she said. No emotion. “After. But Geryon, I must warn you. There is a chance we will not survive.”

“What do you mean?”

“After we have repaired the wall, we must hunt and kill the demons who would destroy it. Are you sure you wish to wait?”

Hunt and destroy the demons. Of course. The answer was so clear, he was embarrassed that he had not thought of it. By killing the High Lords, they would be committing a crime, and they would be punished. Perhaps be put to death.

“So…your kiss?” she prompted softly.

Had he not known better, he would almost think her…eager.

But he did know better. Agreeing to Lucifer’s bargain had been difficult. Or so he’d thought at the time. This was a thousand times more so. “After,” he repeated. He would earn that kiss, and hopefully, she would not ever think back on it and consider him unworthy.

She nodded, and once again looked away from him. “Then let us begin our work.”

CHAPTER FIVE

FOR HOURS GERYON WORKED at repairing the outer wall, pleading with Kadence all the while to remain behind. Demons were dangerous, he said. Demons liked their prey alive and fresh, he said. What he did not say was that she was fragile, breakable. No, he did not need to say it; she read the thoughts in the ever-growing concern in his eyes.

Through it all, she refused to allow him to be alone. She had not bartered something that would surely earn her the wrath of the gods, only to send him on a mission he could not hope to win without her.

While the demons were not hers to command, she could force them to bow to her. She hoped. Besides, she might appear fragile and breakable, but she possessed a core of iron.

Something she’d finally proven to Lucifer earlier. As well as herself.

As a child, she had been an indomitable force. A whirlwind that trampled anything and everything in her path. It had not been intentional. She’d simply followed the quiet urgings inside her head. Dominate. Master.

Do you really wish to think of this now?

No better time, she supposed. Only other thing to think about was why Geryon had not wanted to kiss her when she’d offered. Why he’d actually looked alarmed. A few ideas came to mind: he did not really want to kiss her—but why then would he have requested one? Or he resented her for asking for his aid—this was the most likely—and last, he was simply desperate for a woman, she was the only one available, yet he had to force his body to react first.

Embarrassing!

Not helping.

She could have helped him rather than simply pondering, but he had shooed her away every time she tried. When she joined him anyway, he’d threatened to leave her if she did not stop. So here she was, doing nothing. Useless.

I am not weak, damn it. Even though, for the most part, I have acted like it.

When, as a child, she’d realized she had chipped away at her own mother’s strength of mind, turning the once vibrant goddess into a lifeless shell, she had retreated inside herself, afraid of who and what she was. Afraid of what she could do, unintentional though it was.

Sadly, with those fears came others, as if she’d opened a doorway in her mind and placed a welcome mat out front. Fear of people, places, emotions. For centuries she had acted like the mouse Lucifer had called her.

Underneath the fears, however, she was still the goddess she’d been born to be: Oppression. She conquered. She did not cower. Please, do not let me cower. Not any longer.

“I have done all I can for the outer wall,” Geryon suddenly said.

Kadence had been perched on a nearby rock, and now stood. Her robe fell to her ankles, swaying.

“Once I pry the gate’s boulders apart—” boulders that blocked the cavern from a yawning pit “—we must hurry. We will only have a small slit to pass through, but we cannot let that slow us.”

Or someone—or thing—could escape. “I understand,” she said, closing the distance between them.

“There will be no ledge for us to stand upon. We must hold on to the boulder and work our way down the pit.”

Only after she nodded did he shove and push, creating the aforementioned slit.

Instantly flames and scaled arms reached out. Screams permeated the air. Geryon entered first, commanding all to recede. To her surprise, the demons darted away, the flames died, and the screams quieted as she came through, her body swinging from the natural world into the spiritual one. Part of her wanted to believe they had done so because they’d been afraid of her. The other part of her knew they’d feared Geryon’s wrath.

She held onto the boulder with every bit of her strength as Geryon closed the slit. To let go was to freefall into Hell, a fiery pit just waiting to gobble them up.

Palms…sweating…

“Ready, goddess?” He inched his way toward her. He had swung to the left of the gate, and she the right. “Ready?” he insisted, reaching for her. To protect her? Aid her?

“Yes.” Finally, I will know his touch. Surely it will not be as divine as my body expects. Nothing could be. But just before contact, he moved behind her, then away from her, all without touching her. She sighed in disappointment and tightened her grip on the wall, balancing her feet on a rocky protrusion as best she could.

“This way.” He motioned toward this side’s crack with a tilt of his chin.

“All right. And Geryon? Thank you. For everything.” Usually she whisked herself to Lucifer’s palace without ever opening the gate, too afraid of this. Not today. She couldn’t. For she could not whisk Geryon. Or anyone else, for that matter. The ability extended only to herself.

“You are welcome.”

As she passed, she waved one hand over the now-closed slit. Because there was no longer a guardian stationed out front, the extra fortification would be needed—despite the fact that providing it weakened her, forcing her to leave a piece of herself behind.

As fragments of her power adhered to the stones, she was careful to maintain distance from them. Supposedly Geryon was the only one who could touch the handles of the gate without consequence. Well, besides Hades and Lucifer. Anyone else, the stones heaped untold pain and horror upon.

She had never dared test the supposition.

A thought occurred to her, and she tilted her head, studying her companion. Without Geryon at the gate, who would open the stones to allow damned souls inside?

Perhaps Lucifer had already appointed another Guardian. Perhaps? She chuckled without humor. He had. He couldn’t leave the gates unguarded, even if he had known Kadence would refortify it.

The knowledge that Geryon would not be the man she saw every day…saddened her. For when the wall was safe—she would not allow herself to believe she would fail in this mission—Geryon could leave, but she would be stuck here.

Do not think about that now. She would cry. If she cried, her vision would blur and if her vision blurred, she would have trouble knowing where to place her hands. Her still sweating hands.

She glanced around. The air was smokier here, she noticed, hotter. So hot, in fact, that the sheen of sweat spread up her arms, her neck, even her face. Beads formed, and those beads began trickling down her temples, blurring her vision.

“Geryon,” she said, nearing a panic.

“I am here, Kadence.” In the next instant, he was climbing over her and positioning himself behind again. The scent of decadent, powerful male enveloped her, chasing away the pungent odor of decay. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she whispered, but gods, what had she gotten herself into?

CHAPTER SIX

“MOVE WITH ME,” Geryon told Kadence. “Can you do that?”

“Yes. Of course.” Could she? Maintaining a firm grip, she used the jagged stones to edge along, ever conscious of the seemingly endless void awaiting her should she lose her balance—but far more aware of the male still behind her, caging her in, keeping her steady. “Perhaps the wall is not as damaged as I feared. A goddess can hope, at least.”

“Yes, a goddess can hope.”

How she yearned to rub against him, to drink in his strength, belong to him if only for a moment, but she did not, too afraid of distracting him. Or startling him. Or giving him too much of her weight and causing him to fall.

A rock tumbled from the small ledge on which she had just placed her foot, and she yelped.

“Do not show your fear in any way,” he said. “The demons and the flames feed on it, will try to increase it.”

“They are alive? The flames, I mean.”

“Some of them, yes.”

Dear gods. How had she not known? “I did not imagine the climb would be difficult. I wish I could flash us.”

“Flash?”

“The ability to move from one location to another with only a thought.”

“You have this ability?”

“Yes.”

“And you can go anywhere?”

“Anywhere I have already been. To flash somewhere I have not is…dangerous.”

He thought for a moment. “Have you been to the bottom of this cavern?”

“No.” He had to wonder why she, one of the keepers of Hell, had not physically visited every inch. She had thought herself so clever, merely sending her mind through to watch. But she realized her mistake now.

“Then I ask that you do not try to flash. You might misjudge the distance and end up in a spot without a ledge.”

Or underground, but she did not tell him that.

“That is a handy power to possess. I envy you.”

Poor man. He’d been stuck at the gates of Hell for countless lifetimes. “If you could flash to anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Once they’d destroyed the demons trying to escape, perhaps she would take him there. She would not be able to remain with him, of course, but seeing his happiness could fuel her fantasies for years to come.

He grunted. “I do not wish to lie to you, goddess, therefore I will not answer your question.”

Oh. “I appreciate your honesty.” Why won’t he talk to me?

Curiosity bombarded her. Did his answer embarrass him, perhaps? If so, why? She desperately wanted to know, but let the matter drop. For now.

“We are almost there,” he said. Almost at the crack.

“Good.” He was still close to her, still behind her, but he made sure not to touch her. Yet he couldn’t stop his heat from enveloping her. It was not a heat she minded, even amidst the smoldering furnace that was Hell. His was…heady.

He stopped, forcing her to do the same. “I’m sorry to say it’s worse than I thought it would be.” His breath trekked over the back of her neck.

“Wh—what?” she asked, horrified. Being near her was worse than he’d thought?

“The wall. What else?”

Thank the gods, she thought, expelling a breath. Foolish woman. Her life depended on this wall. She should not care whether a man found her attractive. Or not.

She forced her gaze straight ahead, her mind to center on her job, not the intriguing man behind her. Thick claw marks abounded. And what had appeared to be thin grooves on the other side were massive craters here.

Hope abandoned her.

Irreparable. In every way.

“They are more determined than I realized,” was all she said, voice trembling slightly. No reason to speak her fears aloud. Geryon might think she was complaining about his work or doubting his abilities.

He adjusted his grip, his arm just over her shoulder. A tremor raked her. If she stood on her tiptoes, she would feel his skin through her chimation. Though it had been hundreds of years since she’d had a man, she remembered the comfort such simple contact could offer.

“Do not worry, Kadence. I will not allow them to hurt you.”

He was using her name more freely now, and that gladdened her. “Just so you know, I will not allow them to hurt you, either.” It was a vow.

There was a pause. Then, “Thank you.” He sounded unsure.

“You are welcome.”

She thought she heard him swallow. “Shall I try and patch this side?”

“No.” Too much effort for too little reward. She realized that now. “We should make our way to the bottom. Destroying the High Lords is the only way to prevent more damage.”

Evil laughter erupted behind them, and they both stiffened.

Demons.

“Leave us,” Geryon snapped.

The laughter increased in volume. Drew closer.

He sighed. “I cannot battle them like this, and they know it,” he muttered, latching onto her waist.

She gasped. Finally. He was touching her. It was amazing and wonderful, wild and intense. But there was no comfort in it, as she’d expected. No, instead she experienced white-hot, searing arousal. And a burning desire for more.

“What should we do?”

“Time to fall, Kadence,” he said, and then he released the rocks, taking her over the edge with him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THEY SEEMED TO FALL FOREVER. Geryon retained an ironedged grip on the trembling Kadence, her hair whipping around them like angry silk ribbons. She didn’t scream, something he’d expected, but she did turn and wind her legs around him, something he had not.

It was his first taste of heaven. In this life, and his other.

“I’ve got you,” he said. Her body fit perfectly against his, soft where he was hard, smooth where he was callused.

“When does it end?” she whispered, but still he caught the undercurrents of panic in her voice.

They were not twirling, were merely dropping, but he knew the sensation could be harrowing. Especially, he reflected, for one used to flashing from one place to another.

“Soon.” He’d fallen like this only once before, when Lucifer summoned him to the palace to explain his new duties. But he had never forgotten the experience.

Like before, flames kindled all around them, pinpricks of gold in the shuddering darkness. Except before, those flames had flicked like snake tongues, licking at him. That they didn’t now…did they fear him? Or the goddess?

She was more everything than Geryon had realized. More courageous. More determined. Every minute he spent with her, his desire for her intensified. She was the break of dawn in the bleakness that was his life. She was refreshing ice in smoldering heat.

She is not for you.

Ugly as he was, she would run fast and far if she knew the many fantasies his mind had begun to weave of them. Him, laying her on the ground, stripping her, dancing his tongue over every delicious inch of her. Her, moaning in pleasure as he tasted her core. Crying out in abandon as he filled her with his shaft. Far more than the kiss she would have allowed him.

A kiss born of…pity? Or gratitude?

He found he desired neither. He wanted her to want his kiss.

And damn himself to everlasting eternity, why had he not taken her lips when she’d offered them? In pity, gratitude or not. What a fool he was! What a coward.

Did the opportunity arise again, he would pounce.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her still-rising panic evident.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lied. “Some have called this the never ending pit, but I assure you, there is an end. Just a little farther and we’ll hit. Landing will jar you, but I’ll absorb most of the impact.” He moved one of his hands up and onto the base of her neck. Offering comfort, he told himself. He’d tried not to touch her, had fought it, but there’d been no other way to protect her inside the pit.

Besides, what was the harm in adjusting a single hand?

“But you stiffened.”

I must stop craving her. Her skin was soft, so soft, and he felt little bumps rise under his palm as he gently massaged. To his delight, her muscles relaxed under his ministrations.

Apparently, there was a lot of harm. His shaft hardened unexpectedly, and his cheeks heated. Could she feel the evidence of his arousal? It was buried beneath his only piece of armor, so perhaps she would think the metal responsible.

And you are a fool.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she said. “You’re hiding something, I can tell. I know this pit is made for souls, not breathing, flesh-and-blood bodies. Are we going to—”

“No. I swear it. We will live.” The conversation seemed to calm her, so he said, “Tell me about you. About your childhood.”

“I—all right. But there’s not much to tell. I was not allowed out of my home as a child. For the greater good,” she added, as though the line had been fed to her many times before.

He did not mean to, would have stopped himself if he’d realized, but he found himself hugging her tight, understanding. Because of her nature, she’d been as much an outcast as he was. “Kadence, I—” The air was thickening around them, the flames spraying what looked to be molten teardrops. He recognized the signs; the end was near. “Drop your legs from me, but do not let them touch the ground.”

“All righ—”

“Now!”

Too late.

Boom. They smacked into the ground and Geryon planted his feet as the impact vibrated through him. He tried to remain upright to keep the goddess from having to touch the bones littering the area, but his knees soon gave out and he collapsed backward.

Kadence remained in his arms, unwinding her legs as he’d asked, so his back took the brunt of the fall, breath knocking from his lungs.

He lay there for a moment, panting. They were well and truly inside Hell.

There was no going back now.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“GERYON? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”

The muted darkness of the pit had given way to bright light, fire illuminating every direction. Kadence hovered over him, like the sun he sometimes glimpsed in his daydreams, bright and glorious. “I am…fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re wheezing. What can I do to help?”

He was surprised to note she did not scramble off him, now that they were safe. Well, as safe as a person could be inside Hell. “Tell me more about yourself. While I catch my breath.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” As she spoke, her delicate hands wisped over his brow, his jaw, his shoulders. Searching for injuries? Offering comfort? “What should I tell you?”

“Anything.” He was growing stronger by the second, but he did not admit it. Rather, he luxuriated in the sensation of her touch. “Everything. I want to know all about you.” Truth.

“All right. I…goodness, this is hard. I guess I’ll start at the beginning. My mother is the goddess of Happiness. Odd, I know, that such a woman could give birth to one such as me.”

“Why odd?” When looking at Kadence, hearing her voice, breathing in her scent, gave him more joy than he’d ever known?

“Because of what I am,” she said, clearly ashamed. “Because of the damage I can cause.”

“I have known nothing but—” pleasure, hunger, desperation “—kindness at your hands.”

Her ministrations ceased, and he could feel her gaze boring into him. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly.” Do not stop touching me. Centuries had passed since he’d last enjoyed even the slightest hint of contact. This was nirvana, paradise and a dream all wrapped into one delightful package. “My head,” he found himself saying on a moan.

“Poor baby,” she cooed, massaging his temples.

He nearly smiled. Now was not the time for this. They were inside Hell, out in the open, possible targets. The demons at the gate could have followed them. But he could not help himself, was too desperate, greedy. Just a little longer. “Your story,” he prompted.

“Where was I? Oh, yes.” Her honeysuckle scent enveloped him, chasing away the odor of rot. “I was a mean little girl. I didn’t share my toys, and I frequently made the other children cry, unintentionally compelling them to bend to my will. All right, perhaps a few of those times it was not so unintentional. I think that’s one of the reasons I was sent to Hell as warden, though it was never said aloud. The gods wanted to be rid of me, once and for all.”

How forlorn she sounded. “Every living creature has made a mistake at one point or another. Besides, you were a child. Not yet sensitized to the feelings of others. Do not blame yourself. They should not have. They knew better.”

“What of you?” she asked, and this time she sounded more buoyant.

I did that. I encouraged her.

“What would you like to know?” he wondered.

Slowly she grinned. “Anything. Everything.”

That grin…one of the gods’ finest creations, surely. His gut clenched. His shaft hardened again.

“I need a moment to think.” He’d relegated his human memories to a far corner in his mind, never to be considered again. Before, thinking of those days had stung, for he’d known they were forever lost—but he reminded himself that with his wife’s desertion, that was a good thing. Today, however, with the essence of Kadence all around him, he experienced only a thrum of sadness for what might have been.

“I was a wild child, untamable, a roamer,” he said. “My mother despaired, thinking I would worry her and every member of our family to death.” He laughed, her sweetly aged face flashing in his mind. “Then they introduced me to Evangeline. She calmed me, because I wanted to be worthy of her. We married, as both our families desired.”

Kadence stiffened. Even paled. The hand she’d been dancing at his temple stilled. “You are…wed?”

“No. She left me.”

“I am sorry,” she said, but there was relief in her tone.

Relief? Why? “Don’t be.” Had he not given his soul for Evangeline, she would have died. And had she not left Geryon, he might have fought Lucifer when the time came to become Guardian. And had he fought, he might not have met Kadence.

In that moment, he had never been so glad of something.

Suddenly a frenzied snarl echoed through the distance, trailed by more demon laughter. They had indeed been followed.

Giving up all pretense of being winded, Geryon popped to a stand, lifting the goddess with him and searching the distance.

The horde was several yards away. But as he watched, a fiend separated from the pack and raced straight for them.

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