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“Possible, yes. Likely, no.” Axel poured himself a shot of whiskey. “A curse is a living organism, a parasite that requires a host. It feeds off thoughts, emotions, words, finally becoming a self-fulfilled prophecy.”

Pacing, he said, “Let’s say I’m not actually cursed. Let’s say the book isn’t cursed, either.” No one had ever sensed a curse, only magic. “What would entrance Sunny and lead her to kill me?”

Axel fell into step beside him, keeping pace. “I don’t know, but if it only happens with the book...”

“Then the book is at fault, despite being curse-free.”

“Something about it must poison her mind against you.”

Poison... He recalled the vial of poison the Goddess of Many Futures had revealed to Hades, as well as the vial of poison Sunny had drawn. Could the book be poisonous? But how? The pages coated with some kind of chemical? No. Would he have noticed it?

What about the ink?

He sucked in a breath. The fucking ink. Sunny liked to feel the symbols. Had she been poisoned every time she’d made contact?

Had he cursed himself every time he’d requested her aid?

His hands fisted. Oh, how Lilith must have loved the idea of that. He stopped abruptly, his stomach twisting. She hadn’t cursed him. She’d cursed the ink, giving him the means to destroy himself. And he had.

Worse than a fool. A gull, easily deceived.

Fury burned through him, only to fade as waters of hope rained over him. No book, no murder attempts. He could torch the pages and have Sunny. But... If he was wrong, he would destroy his only means of obtaining freedom.

He imagined Lilith laughing as he met and discarded woman after woman, afraid to fall in love. Imagined her gleefully bragging about her genius and his idiocy, smug as she told her friends all about his efforts to save himself, only to make things worse for his present, and his future.

“I must go,” he said. “I’m going to try to speak with Hades one last time and find out what he—” William pressed his lips together, waiting.

Axel had ceased moving, his head canted to the side, his expression dark but frozen. No doubt other Sent Ones were speaking to him telepathically.

William would give him one minute more, but no longer. Then he would leave. Get to Hades, then Sunny. One way or another, the issue with his book would be resolved today.

Within thirty seconds, the Sent One snapped out of it. “Hordes of demons have invaded the camp of Sent Ones, and my men require my aid. I cannot flash while I’m in the heavens. I need you to take me back to Hell.”

Demons invading his turf... William wasted no time, cupping his brother’s shoulder and flashing him to the campground. But...there were no Sent Ones present. No demons, either. The place had been deserted.

A sense of foreboding prickled his flesh. “Go,” William said. “Find your brethren. I must get Sunny to safety.” If the horde had invaded his home... William cursed.

They embraced.

“Be well, William.”

“And you, brother.” Though he wished to linger—Sunny had taught him the beauty of a good cling—William stepped back and flashed to his bedroom. “Sunny?”

He rushed to the bed—not there. His heart raced. He stomped into the bathroom. No sign of her there, either.

He wouldn’t panic. Not yet. He sprinted about, searching for any clues. There! A sheet of paper rested on her pillow. Trembling, he lifted it. His guts clenched. Tearstains marred the paper, and they were still damp.

He read, I’ve left, and I’ve taken your book. Please don’t try to find me. I promise I’ll return once your curse is broken. Tell Dawn I love and miss her, okay? But maybe don’t tell her I’ll miss you more.

No, no, no. Now he panicked. She’d gone, and she’d taken the book.

But she hadn’t been gone long.

Must find her! He called her cell, only to hear it ring. The device rested on the nightstand. Think! To escape him so quickly, she must have been flashed. Who would she ask to flash her, though? And how would she communicate—

The cell phone. She’d left it so he couldn’t track her, but probably hadn’t thought to erase her messages. Not if she’d been in a hurry.

He cued up her texts and found an exchange with Hades.

Sunny: I need to speak with you. It’s important. How soon can you pick me up?

Hades: Check your door.

Claws sprouted from William’s nails. The exchange transpired sixteen minutes ago. If she went with his father... There’s still hope.

Frantic but determined, William texted Axel an update, arranging a meet-up, then hurriedly strapped weapons all over his body. On his way, he remembered the medallion he’d stashed away, intending to study. He had yet to practice with it, and usually refused to wield an untried weapon. But Sunny had said the medallion could paralyze an opponent for seconds at a time. Those seconds could be lifesaving. And hadn’t he felt fated to use the medallion?

Very well. He would make an exception. He followed Sunny’s lead, hanging the medallion from a chain and securing it around his neck.

As soon as it slid beneath his shirt, touching his skin, its magic swept through him, plumping his muscles with aggression and strength as if he were some kind of Berserker. Should have done this sooner.

Now to get his woman back, kill his ex-brother and find his crown.

* * *

Sunny’s heart raced faster than a speeding bullet. She’d been wide-awake when William had left their bedroom. Seconds later, she’d jumped to her feet and rushed around to gather everything she might need.

Since he’d programmed Hades’s number into her cell phone, she’d contacted the king to ask for a one-on-one conference. She’d wanted to contact Pandora or Anya, but she’d feared they would tell William her plans. Besides, this way, she could help repair his relationship with his dad before she went into hiding.

Only minutes later, there’d been a hard rap at the door. She’d opened up to find Hades. He’d patted her down, discarded her weapons and flashed her to his home. Well, all but one weapon. The medallion still hung around her neck. That, he hadn’t noticed, thanks to her magic.

As soon as he’d learned the reason for her request, however, he’d deposited her in William’s old bedroom and told her, “I don’t have time for such matters. Lucifer has attacked the Sent Ones. If you remain in this room without causing trouble, we’ll talk after I’ve put out a few fires.”

That conversation had occurred roughly ten minutes ago. She’d spent half the time investigating William’s things. A closet filled with novelty T-shirts about Big Willy. Mason jars filled with clear liquid and organs. Roma

nce novels, books about war, codebreaking and game theory filled the only bookcase.

Her ears twitched, telltale noises drifting from somewhere below. Battle noises. Her brow furrowed. What was going on down there?

She opened the bedroom door, cringing at the slightest squeak. Thankfully, no one shouted protests or commands as she tiptoed into the hall. She ignored the riches and treasures around her, keeping her attention on the armed soldiers once posted along the walls, now leaping into action, rushing down the staircase.

She followed, the scent of brimstone and sulfur permeating the air. Still no protests. The closer she came to the throne room, the louder those battle noises became and the faster her heart galloped. Swords whooshed and clanged. Bones popped. Blood gurgled.

Screams and wails blended with gleeful laughter. No matter which way she looked, demons fought soldiers.

Sage! This was a full-on invasion.

Some of the demons had multiple horns and forked tails. Others had bloodstained fangs and ultrasharp claws. All had hard scales and a thirst for blood.

Demons. Must. Die.

Muscles tensing for battle—not yet, not yet—she pressed her back against the wall and slipped into the shadows, sneaking about.

More demons congregated at the doors of the throne room. Bodies and body parts littered the floor, pools of blood in every direction.

Finally a demon noticed her and launched her way, only to be blocked by other demons and soldiers already engaged in combat. Heart thudding, she yanked her medallion free and dropped to the floor. After she smeared blood on her face and chest, she played dead. One minute passed, then two, the demon reaching her at last.

He spun, searching for her. When he spotted her, seemingly dead, he howled and lashed out, kicking her in the stomach. She didn’t let herself huff a breath or react in any way. Not stabbing him in retaliation required willpower she hadn’t known she possessed. But the moment she engaged, she would lose her advantage. An advantage she needed to save for the rescue of Hades. William would want her to save his father at all cost.


Tags: Gena Showalter Lords of the Underworld Fantasy