The Darkest King (Lords of the Underworld 15)

Icy fingers of dread crept down his spine.

Then a miracle occurred. She softened against him, easing the suction on his tongue. She stopped biting and started laving. In seconds, sharp desire pummeled him. He felt as if he’d craved her forever, and it only magnified his dread.

Ding. The elevator doors opened on the seventeenth floor.

Damn it! Things had just started to get good. The fact that he had to stop... Now his temper flared, a new growl rumbling in his chest. He jerked his head up, grating, “Which room?” They would finish what they’d started, then return to their conversation.

“Last one on the right,” she told him, more breathless than before.

William twined their fingers, ushered her into the hallway, and maintained a brisk pace to their destination. She keyed into the room, entering first with an excited spring in her step.

Either she wanted him, or she wanted him to experienced whatever waited beyond the door. Prepared for anything, he entered on her heels, doing a quick visual sweep. Small room. Beige walls. Generic artwork. King-size bed, plush white comforter. No weapons. Except for the temperature. She’d set the thermostat to Hotter than Hell.

Sweat beaded on his brow, his insides quickly boiling. Wonderful. A nice William stew.

Behind him, the exit closed with a soft snick.

Sunny spun, her mouth opening and closing. “But I... She... I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?”

“She’s not here. Why isn’t she here?”

“She?” Would Sunny reveal her true purpose now or wait until—

She whirled around, her arm raised, her hand fisted, the gun-ring aimed at his face. Okay. “Now,” it is. “Very well,” she said. “I’ll do this myself.”

Never, in all the centuries of his life, had a woman pulled a gun on him post-kissing. After screwing him, yes. It’d happened once or maybe a dozen times. He’d lost count, all right? Apparently, he had a terrible bedside manner. Many females had suggested he seek help. And he would, just as soon as he started caring about what other people thought of him.

“I know who you are,” Sunny snapped. “William of the Dark, also known as the Ever Randy and the Panty Melter. The son of Hades and brother of Lucifer. You’re scum! How many villages did you and your brother pillage over the centuries, hmm? Tell me! And don’t lie. I’ll know.”

He flinched at “scum.” The little bitch. But, no matter. With her outburst, she’d appeased his pride, explaining her resistance to his charms, her rage and her insults. She’d waged mental war, attempting to undermine his confidence and make him second-guess himself, all to punish him for something she believed he’d done in the past.

Unfortunately for her, William excelled at mental warfare. He won, always. “How many villages have I pillaged? Again, the number is incalculable.” He leaned to the side, resting his shoulder against the wall. A relaxed pose. “Why? Did I pillage yours?”

“Yes! No! Argh! Maybe. I lived in the Realm of Mythstica.”

Finally. Information. “I’ve never visited the Realm of Mythstica.” Where many creatures of myth and legend hailed, like dragons, minotaurs and the mighty Pegasus.

“Did you ever help your brother plan an attack on a village in Mythstica?” she demanded.

“No.” Had he helped Lucifer plan other attacks? Yes. Many times. Afterward, he’d regretted them all.

“But...but... You’re lying to me. You must be lying. I don’t know how, but there’s no other explanation. So tell me why you did it—the truth this time!—or I’m going to shoot you in your pretty face.”

He patted his stubble-dusted cheeks. “You think I’m pretty?” When she screeched, he decided to move on. “What are you going to shoot me with, hmm?” Trying not to smirk, and failing, he fished the bullets out of his pocket.

She shocked him. A grin lit her features, making his chest tighten all over again. “You think I’m freesia-ed,” she said, her smirk a rival for his. “But I clocked your every move during our pathetic excuse for a kiss, and I knew the second you removed the bullets. Too bad for you I’ve already reloaded.”

“Freesia-ed?” William was reluctantly impressed with her bravado, but also furious. She’d dared to threaten him, a prince of darkness? She would learn better. “Shoot me, then.” Bullets only served as an annoyance. Like flies. “Or do you find me too attractive to damage?” How far would she take this?

If she was, in fact, the one he sought, he needed to know.

“I’m sure there are some women who find you passable,” she sneered, making it clear she considered those women idiots.

The insult hit its mark, little snarling sounds leaving him. Guess he cared more about the opinion of others than he’d realized.

“Ohhhh. That one stung, huh?” Shaking her fist in his direction, she commanded, “Stop acting tough and start talking. What did my people ever do to you and your family?”

Would she actually pull the trigger? One second he thought, No way; the next he thought, Hell, yes. “Who are your people? What are your people?”

Ignoring his questions, she snapped, “Why did you pillage any village?”

That one had an easy answer. “In the past, if someone threatened me, I killed them as well as their entire family and collection of friends, all to prevent others from avenging their deaths.” He offered the admission without shame. Fine! With a hint of shame.

“We never threatened you. We spent our days helping anyone in need.”

“For the last time, I did not plan or participate in the destruction of any village in Mythstica.” But Lucifer might have, while wearing William’s face. Son of a bitch! His ex-bro had enjoyed blaming others for his worst deeds. “Did you see me there?”

“Well. I...” She bowed up. “No,” she grated. “I didn’t. They didn’t.”

Confusion muddied his thoughts, his brows drawing together. “So why assume I’m lying? Why assume I’m responsible?”

“Your brother’s war cry. For William!”

Electrified coils of rage unfurled inside him. I’ll kill him. “He framed me for many things. I never asked him to murder for me. I’ve always taken care of my own killings.”

“Then why haven’t you killed him?”

I’m trying! Rather than voice his failure, he hooded his eyelids. Look at me...relax your guard... “If you’re going to shoot my—what did you call it? Oh, yes. My pretty face. If you’re going to shoot regardless of what I say, I have no incentive to share information with you.”

She smiled the wickedest, evilest smile he’d ever beheld, somehow seeming to shock his deadened heart back to life. “You want incentive?” she purred. “Here it is. Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll kill you quick and painless. Don’t, and I’ll make it hurt in ways you’ve never experienced.”

Another threat. Unlike others, he did not fear pain. What truly terrified him? Whatever she’d done to his now-pounding heart. “What is it you want to know exactly? Lucifer’s location?”

She gave a clipped nod. “Yes. But first, we’ll start with the reason you came to the conference. To kill someone, yes, as your dark nature demands?”

As a matter of fact... “I’m here to find a codebreaker who can work with magical codes. If you’re the one, I’ll kill to protect you. For two weeks. So. I’ll show you a photo, and you’ll tell me if you can translate the symbols into words.”

A crease formed above the bridge of her nose. “Why such a specific timeline?” Then she shook her head and stomped her foot. “No! You’re lying again. Somehow. The photo is probably laced with poison.”

Another item to add to her file. Nope, two items. Bad kisser, and suspicious as hell. Two reasons to hard pass. So why was he more attracted to her by the second?

Lifemate...

No, no. Can’t be sure.

&nbsp

; “All right. New plan,” he grated. “I’ll give you an orgasm or twelve. Sated, you’ll relax. Relaxed, you’ll think clearly. Then you’ll admit I’m the best lover you’ve ever had, and we’ll hash out this village pillaging business like semiadults.” He’d never failed to make a woman climax, and he wouldn’t start today.

“Let me think about your offer...thinking...nah. I’m not interested in faking it.”

“Faking? Faking!” He fisted his hands. “I’ve already soaked your thong, guaranteed.”

Her smirk returned, and oh, it looked as good on her as the evil grin. “Thong? Please. I’m proud to say I wear granny panties exclusively. I’m not putting a piece of cloth up my butt for anyone, and lace itches. I like cotton, and I like coverage.”