The Darkest Kiss (Lords of the Underworld #2)(101)

Paris maintained a tight hold on his bundle as he stepped into the hallway. Red velvet walls surrounded him; naked white statues towered from marble daises.

A cathedral? Seriously?

There was no time to ponder his location. A flood of Hunters raced toward him, each firing a gun. Pop. Whiz. No longer willing to keep him alive, were they? They were using silencers, he realized. Probably concerned with the noise level, which meant they were afraid to draw a crowd - which meant they were in a well-populated area.

The demon inside him snapped and snarled in rage, quickly and easily propelling him out of the line of fire. Sienna bounced at his side. Once, she gasped. But that was it, the only noise she made. Better, she stopped fighting him.

Barreling forward, he kicked two Hunters in the stomach and sent them sailing into a sculpture of the Virgin Mary. The sculpture wavered on her perch, and one of the Hunters dropped his semi-automatic. Paris snatched it with his free hand and began shooting, continuing to move forward at a rapid pace.

He turned a corner, found more Hunters and kept firing. More shots were aimed at him, but he dodged. Only three managed to graze him. When he ran out of bullets, he tossed the gun aside and grabbed another. They lined the halls - as did dead bodies. He flew around another corner, and Sienna's breasts brushed his skin. He felt...no, surely not. He'd just had her. He could not get hard again. Not by her. But blood began to fill and harden his cock.

Never, in thousands of years, had he desired the same woman twice. He wasn't even sure what would happen if he gave in to the urge. Would the demon inside him go crazy? Would he go crazy?

"Which way?" he demanded of Sienna when he came to a fork in the hall.

"Left," she gasped out.

"If you are lying..."

"I'm not."

He turned left and leapt into a full sprint. A towering double doorway loomed ahead, three Hunters racing from it. They raised their guns at him, their expressions intent. He tried to fire, but he had used the last bullet.

He ducked and dove, shouting, "Hang on," to Sienna.

She did, winding her legs around his waist. He hit the ground and she bounced, and together they rolled into the Hunters, knocking them down like pins in the path of a bowling ball.

While they were down, he swiped up another gun and shot them in the skulls. Blood and brains splattered. Sienna whimpered, but didn't speak. Paris experienced a twinge of guilt that she'd witnessed his most violent side, but quickly tamped it out. Her opinion of him no longer mattered.

He shoved through the doors and found himself outside. The warm night air was sweet, innocent. Looking around, he realized that he was still in Greece and that he had indeed been inside a cathedral. Humans stood on the steps, gaping at his blood-stained nudity and muttering about the commotion.

In the distance, he could hear the wail of a siren.

Steps swift, he made his way to the side of the building and into a darkened ally. Sienna moaned, and it was a pain-filled sound. His gaze sought her. She was limp as a doll.

"Look at me."

She turned her head slowly, and he saw that her eyes were pooled with unshed tears, her features bright with anguish. He felt something warm run down his hip and frowned.

When he was certain they were alone, he set her down and looked her over. She'd managed to work her arms through the shirt and the material hung to her thighs.

His chest constricted. She was bleeding profusely, the shirt already plastered to her stomach in a wide crimson circle.

She'd been shot.

"Sienna," he said, upset in a way he didn't understand. He shouldn't care. He'd meant to punish her. Had wanted to hurt her.

"Paris," she gasped. "I should...have...killed you."

As if the words had sucked the last of her strength, her head lolled to the side. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. Only a heartbeat later, she died.

LUCIEN GRABBED ANYA'S ARM and stopped her just before she crossed through that thick, dappled patch of air. She glanced at him curiously, and he shook his head.

"You first," he told William, just in case they were stepping into some sort of trap.

At first, the warrior gave no reaction. But then his eyes narrowed, and he shrugged. "Very well. I'll go first." Without another word, William walked past them into the glistening shimmer.

He disappeared as if he'd never been on the mountain.

Dear gods. It was a doorway. Lucien experienced a moment of joy. They might find the Cage of Compulsion after all. With the thought, his joy was tempered by apprehension. To win the cage, they might have to fight the mighty Hydra. He'd expected to do so, but the possibility had never been so real.

"After me," Lucien told Anya and stepped forward before she could protest. "Be ready to fight." He gripped a dagger in each hand, a little shaky and a lot weak, though he refused to succumb to either.

Whatever he'd expected the shimmers to feel like, they didn't. They were dry and as light as air. There was no moment of suspension, no dizziness. One minute he was surrounded by snow and ice, the next he was in paradise.

Warm air beat around him, heating him, melting the frost and making him sweat.

"Wow," Anya gasped behind him. She stepped up beside him, gripping the sword she'd stolen from William. "This is, like, amazing. Who would have thought a place like this was actually up in these mountains?"