The Darkest King (Lords of the Underworld 15)

Panda nodded her agreement. “Where are your boys?”

“Two are chasing rumors about Lilith, and one is hunting for Evelina Maradelle, Lucifer’s absentee wife.” The few things William remembered about her: a witchy dragon-shifter with a kind heart who spoke with a stutter. She’d run off soon after the wedding, sending Lucifer into an unstoppable rage.

William couldn’t wait to taunt his ex-brother. I have your wife. Want her back? Too bad, so sad.

He snickered as he shoved a favorite video game system, games and a deep conditioning—totally manly—hair treatment into the bag.

The little hellhounds decided to emerge, prowl over and sniff his leg.

Teasing them, he said, “Put your noses in my ass, and we will have problems.”

“As if! I would never put—” Pandora glanced up from the magazine at last, noticed the hounds and muttered, “Never mind.”

William bent down to pet the pups. The one caked in dirt flinched, as if expecting a hit, and a sharp pang of sympathy tore through him. Had Baden and Katarina found her in the wilds of hell? The other hound nipped his fingers. As blood welled in the pad of his thumb, the pair backed away. Afraid of him?

“You remind me of an acquaintance,” he told the two-headed baby. “Only, she uses bullets instead of teeth. Her name is Sunny, so let’s keep the sky theme going and call you Dawn. And you...” He gave the dirty one his kindest smile. “We’ll call you Aurora. You’re as pretty as the northern lights, sweetheart.”

Aurora understood him; she must. She softened, even rubbed against him.

Pandora tossed the magazine. “I was hoping you’d bring Sunny to dinner. Can you imagine Rathbone using freesia as an expletive? Talk about hilarious!”

A faint pitter-patter of claws on wood caught William’s attention, and he frowned. Sounded like an entire pack of hellhounds. Then the scent of sulfur, brimstone and malice tainted the air, stinging his nostrils, and he palmed two daggers.

Demons. A horde. They hadn’t come for a chat; they’d come for blood.

Pandora sensed the threat, too, and reached under a pillow, pulling out a minicrossbow and a mythical dagger with the power to incinerate its victims.

His daggers weren’t going to do shit. Use the medallion? No. He wouldn’t wield an untried weapon against an enemy.

Within the borders of Hell, otherwise intangible demons had the ability to materialize and dematerialize on command. Since one spirit could be fought only by another spirit—like called to like—William would have to dematerialize at times, too. Both a blessing and a curse. He would land blows, but he would also burn through energy faster. Too fast.

Dawn’s neon red eyes glowed with fear. Aurora kept her head bowed as her body shook. Usually, hellhounds exhibited massive amounts of aggression. That these two feared... Something awful must have happened to them. Katarina must have thought they’d do like every other woman, and melt for him.

Every other woman but Sunny.

“Back under the bed, girls.” He strode over to hold up the bed skirt. The pups rushed to obey. “I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, I swear it.”

He dropped his daggers, raced back to his closet and grabbed two sickles.

An enemy has invaded my father’s home. Rage transformed his blood into fuel, the barest hint of smoke already seeping from his pores. Careful. They were in Hell; the smoke could hurt Pandora just as easily as the demons.

“This must be payback for Hades’s attack against Lucifer,” Pandora said, darting to William’s side. They would fight back-to-back, ensuring no one snuck up behind them.

“Then they want blood. Ours.” The pitter-patter grew louder...louder...soon becoming a stampede. “Should arrive in three...two...”

The horde ghosted through the walls in droves, flooding the room with a cloud of dark smoke.

William coughed, blood leaking from his eyes and nose. No time to clean up. The demons swarmed him, ready to kill.

16

“If you allow an enemy to live today, expect to die by his hand tomorrow.”

Pandora remained at William’s back as he dematerialized to slash at one demon and rematerialized to slash at another. Sweat poured from him, a crazy intense surge of adrenaline turning his torso into a furnace. He sliced and diced limbs, genitals, wings and tails. He removed eyes and severed spines. Heads thudded to the floor and rolled away, sizzling black blood spraying in every direction. Bodies collapsed, piling up around him, filling the room with the pungent scent of old pennies and emptied bowels.

A cacophony of noise assaulted his ears. Grunts and groans. The gurgle and swish of liquids—blood, bile and piss. The pop of breaking bones. The raggedness of panting breaths.

One of the fiends managed to claw William’s neck. The pain! The demon must have injected him with some kind of venom; the gashes heated, soon boiling.

Venom...akin to a vial of poison?

Shit! The heat singed a path to his brain. In seconds, he felt as if his head had been dropped into a vat of boiling oil, agony overtaking him.

Do not slow. He drew back his elbow, about to remove his opponent’s head. Then he paused, horrified. The demon was no longer a demon, but Gillian, wearing a bloody tank top and shorts.

William had almost murdered the girl he treasured above all—most—others.

Panic fragmented his thoughts. How had she... She couldn’t... This...? “You shouldn’t have come. Go!” Why weren’t the demons attacking her? “You have to go now.” She’d grown into a fierce warrior, yes, but she wasn’t ready for a battle like this.

“I’m not leaving you,” Pandora snarled, her body jerking against his.

Gleeful snickers. He’d amused the demons?

“Not you.” Did his sister not see his friend?

Gillian smiled and strutted closer, oblivious to the danger. The moment she stood within striking distance, he latched on to her forearm, intending to yank her between him and Pandora. Will protect her with my life! Only, her skin wasn’t soft and supple but dry and patchy like scales. A green tail uncoiled between her legs, slithering out from behind her. The spiked tip resembled the head of a demonic snake.

What the hell?

Oh, shit. The demons, they belonged to the Hallucina horde, Lucifer’s favorite pets. They leaked venom that screwed with the minds of their victims, causing them to see vivid hallucinations.

Before William could strike, fake Gillian cracked her tail across his cheek. Skin split, and his head whipped to the side. A new flare of heat and pain.

Sunny appeared a few feet away, and his heart nearly stopped. Sunny, with her pink hair, emerald eyes and untapped sensuality. Logically, he knew she was a hallucination created by his mind. Still, he panicked all over again. What if she’d flashed, following him here? Could she flash? Think!

Did the answer really matter? He couldn’t risk her life.

“Stay where you are,” he bellowed at her. “Do not move.” He would remain out of striking distance, just in case, but he would allow no others to near her.

Readjusting his grip on the sickles, William freed a hand. With a roar, he bent down, grabbed one of the daggers he’d dropped earlier and tossed it, nailing the demon next to Sunny.

Arms remaining in a constant flow of motion, he cut through another demon, then another. Swinging. Slashing. Jabbing.

Every time he slicked the curved edge of a sickle into a demon’s body, he twisted the blade for maximum damage. Drops of black blood splattered over his skin, blisters welling.

“Help me,” Sunny pleaded. She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if terrified, and attempted to edge closer to him.

Though sharp pangs tore through him, he jumped back—and inadvertently collided with a demon. More pain and heat. The sharp edge of a wing ripped through cotton and flesh, a stream of crimson trickling down

his abdomen.

Whoosh. An arrow embedded in the space between Sunny’s eyes. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed.

“No!” He dove to catch her before she hit the floor. More pain and heat, but he didn’t care. Dead. She was dead.

Vision blurring, he cradled her beautiful face against his chest. A war cry lodged in his throat.

This isn’t her. Can’t be her.

Please, please, don’t let this be my Sunny.

Another demon launched at him. Contorting, William kicked out his leg. Impact. The demon collided with his steel-toed boot and stumbled backward.

“Hades?” Pandora gasped out. She stilled, her crossbow lifted but shaking.

Hades had come? Struggling to control his breathing, William chanced a look over his shoulder. No sign of his father but... No! Every demon wore Sunny’s face.

Terror rattled him to his core, his vitals icing over. In that moment, he felt as if he’d lost the battle, one hundred percent. What if the demons had hidden the real Sunny in their midst?

Could William risk the murder of his codebreaker?