The Darkest Kiss

Her eyes narrowed. All around, people watched their interaction

and his rejection of her. This isn’t prime time, she projected at them with a scowl. Turn the fuck around.

One by one, the humans obeyed. However, the rest of the Lords closed in on her, staring intently, no doubt curious as to who she was and what she was doing here.

They had to be careful, and she understood that. They were still pursued by Hunters, humans who foolishly believed they could create a utopia of peace and harmony by ridding the world of the Lords and the demons they carried inside them.

Ignore them. You’re running out of time, chica. She returned her attention to Lucien by twisting her head to face him without actually turning all the way around. “Where were we?” she asked huskily. She ran a fingertip over the top band of her thong, not stopping until she drew the hot focus of his gaze to the glittery angel wings in the center.

“I was just about to walk away,” he choked out.

At his words, her nails elongated into little claws. He still thought to deny her? Seriously?

She’d shown herself to him, even knowing that the gods would be able to pinpoint her exact location—something it was best to avoid since they planned to snuff her out like a mangy animal. She would not leave this club without a reward.

Determination intensifying, she swung around with another roll of her hips, the length of her pale hair caressing his chest. As she nibbled on her bottom lip, she plumped her breasts. “But I don’t want you to leave,” she said with a practiced pout.

He backed up another step.

“What’s wrong, sweetness?” Merciless, she moved forward. “Afraid of a little girl?”

His lips thinned, but he didn’t reply. Thankfully, he didn’t move farther away, either.

“Are you?”

“You have no idea at what game you play, woman.”

“Oh, but I think I do.” Her gaze swept over him, and she stilled in renewed amazement. He was utterly magnificent. Rainbow-colored strobe lights rained down his face and body, a body so finely sculpted it could have been chiseled from stone. He wore a black tee and stone-washed jeans, and both hugged rope after rope of hand-over-your-panties muscle. Mine.

“I said no touching,” he barked.

Her gaze snapped back to his and she held up her hands, palms out. “I’m not touching you, sweetcakes.” But I wantto…I plan to…I will.

“Your gaze suggests otherwise,” he said tightly.

“That’s because—”

“I’ll dance with you,” another warrior said, cutting her off. Paris again.

“No.” Anya didn’t switch her attention. She wanted Lucien and only Lucien. No one else would do.

“Could be Bait,” a different Lord piped in, probably eyeing her with suspicion. She recognized the deep timbre of his voice. Sabin, keeper of Doubt.

Please. Bait? As if she would try to lure anyone anywhere for reasons that weren’t completely selfish. Bait, stupid girls that they were, were all about self-sacrifice; their job was to seduce a Lord to distraction so Hunters could sneak in and slay him. And really, what kind of moron wanted to kill the Lords rather than make out with them a little?

“I doubt Hunters were able to assemble so quickly after the plague,” Reyes said.

Oh, yes. The plague. One of the Lords was possessed by the demon of Disease. If he touched any mortal skin-to-skin,

he infected that person with a terrible sickness that spread and killed with amazing swiftness.

Knowing this, Torin always wore gloves and rarely left the fortress, willingly keeping to himself to protect humans from his curse. Not his fault a group of Hunters had sneaked inside the fortress a few weeks ago and cut his throat.

Torin had survived; the Hunters had not.

Unfortunately, there were many, many more Hunters out there. Seriously, they were like flies. Swat one away, and two more soon took its place. Even now, they were out there somewhere, waiting for a chance to strike. The Lords had to remain cautious.

“Besides, there’s no way they could have figured out a way to bypass our security,” Reyes added, his harsh voice drawing Anya from her thoughts.

“Just like there’s no way they could get into the fortress and nearly behead Torin?” Sabin replied.

“Damn this! Paris, stay here and watch her while I check the perimeter. Sabin, come with me.” Footsteps, muttered curses.

Well, shit. If the warriors found any trace of Hunters out there, there’d be no convincing them of her innocence. Of that crime, at least. Lucien would never trust her, never relax around her. Never touch her except in anger.

She didn’t allow her trepidation to play over her face. “Maybe I saw the crowd and snuck in,” she told Paris and another Lord who was studying her, adding tightly, “And maybe the big guy and I can go the next few minutes without an interruption. In private.”

They might have gotten the hint, but they didn’t leave.

Fine. She’d work around them.

As she began to once again rock softly to the beat, she kept her gaze on Lucien and caressed her fingers down the planes of her stomach. Replace my hands with yours, she projected.

Of course, he didn’t. But his nostrils did that delicious flare as his eyes followed every movement of her palms. He swallowed.

“Dance with me.” This time, she said the words aloud, hoping he would not so easily ignore her. She licked her lips, moistening them.

“No.” Hoarse, barely audible.

“Pretty please, with a cherry on top of me.”

His eyes flickered with fiery provocation. Not her imagination, she realized. Hope flooded her. But when several seconds ticked by and he failed to reach out for her, that hope turned to frustration. Time really was her enemy. The longer she stayed here, the greater her chance of being caught.

“Do you not find me desirable, Flowers?”

A muscle ticked below his eye. “That is not my name.”

“Fine, then. Do you not find me desirable, muffin?”

The ticking spread to his jaw. “What I find you matters little.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” she said, close to pouting again.

“Nor was it meant to.”

Grrr! What an infuriating man. Try something else. Somethingblatant.

As if I haven’t been blatant already.