To Tristan.
So far, she’d found only emptiness and despair.
“I miss him so much,” she told her sister, and one lone tear slid down her cheek. That was all it took for the dam to break. She sobbed and shook with the force of her grief, all of her tears cascading down her cheeks, wetting her pillow.
Faith gentled a hand down her hair, held her tightly and cooed soft words of comfort.
But there was no comfort to be found.
* * *
Imperia
ON THE LAST DAY of his required season without Julia, the fine hairs on the back of Tristan’s neck rose, warning him of a coming adversary. He sat atop his horned stag, darkness surrounding him and his men. They had already fought many battles, and he knew many more were to come. It was as if he had never left this place, his battle instincts were so sharp and attuned. Mayhap that was because he only wanted Julia in his arms, and was willing to do anything to get her here.
He knew his men wondered why he fought so hard, harder than ever before. He had told only his friend, Roake, who had agreed to fight at his side, giving his aid.
In a low, quiet tone, he cautioned his army to guard their flanks. Danger lurked nearby. The talon at his side hummed with anticipation. Tristan clutched the hilt, ready. Oh, aye. A battle brewed.
A war cry sounded—and it was not his.
Rebel attackers jumped from the trees, blades hoisted in the air, the only thing visible in the night. Combat began seconds later. Tristan’s talon sliced through the air, vibrating when it connected with flesh.
Energy flowed through his veins. Battle always had that effect on him, always gave him added strength. Yet this time, his energy stemmed from his desire to be with Julia. This was his last day without her—if she wanted to come to him. He had to believe she did. Otherwise…
He’d lived a year without her. He could not go another day.
He fought like a man possessed. He heard men scream in pain. The blood of the rebels ran like crimson rivers along the grassy field. The muscles in his arms and back burned, not completely healed from the many battles he had already endured these many cycles, but he kept fighting, wielding his weapon with deadly intent. There was too much at stake to give up now.
When he finished off one man, two others attacked. He stepped backward off his stag, blocking a blow to his midsection. Then he lunged out, taking down one assailant in a single fluid spin. As he straightened, something stabbed at his back.
On instinct, he dove to the right, a movement that prevented a talon from sinking past bone and muscle and saved his life. Wincing as the new wound throbbed in protest, he whipped around. His combatant grinned, sensing victory, and raised his arms. The silver metal glinted in the moonlight as it arced downward.
Without pause, Tristan unsheathed the blades Julia had given him as he spun and stabbed upward. Instant contact. With a painful scream, the man collapsed.
More men attacked from the trees, and he and his men continued to fight. Not long after, Roake sounded the victory shout. Loud, buoyant cheers covered the lingering sounds of battle, the moans of the hundreds of men lying wounded and bleeding in the grass.
Tristan rubbed a weary hand down his equally weary face, then gazed up at the heavens. He had had enough. It was time.
“Percen,” he shouted, praying the High Priest heard him. “I fight no more until our bargain is complete.”
* * *
JULIA LAY IN BED. She wore the same T-shirt and sweat pants she’d worn every day since Tristan left. They were his, and she welcomed the small bit of comfort they brought her. Another week had passed without him. Another awful, lonely week.
She was no longer sleeping. She only tossed and turned and imagined.
When would this terrible ache subside? She just didn’t know. As she clutched her pillow to her chest, she heard a voice boom through her home. She jolted upright, startled.
“Do you wish to go to him, lass?” It was the same Scottish burr she’d heard at the flea market when she’d bought Tristan’s box.
She didn’t question her sanity. Wouldn’t be taking any chances. She simply shouted, “Yes! Can you take me to him?”
As soon as she uttered the words, her world began to spin. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed. Colors swirled behind her lids, and something whizzed in her ears. How many minutes passed, she didn’t know. Please let this be real, she thought, trying to kindle her growing hope.
An eternity later, the spinning ceased.
When she opened her eyes, she had to blink until they adjusted to the bright sunlight. She stood on a bed of white grass. Half-clothed men strode all around her, some sweaty and bloody. Some freshly washed. They gave her confused looks but did not approach her.
A large lake of perfectly clear water consumed half the land. Tristan leaned against a gleaming silver boulder, his eyes closed as water cascaded down his naked torso and pant-clad legs.
With a joyous cry, she shouted his name, “Tristan!”
His eyelids snapped open. He shook his head, as if he didn’t quite believe his eyes. Then he leapt into motion. He ran to her and swept her into his arms. “Are you here? Are you truly here?”
“I’m here, I’m here.” Tears burned her eyes, such happy tears.
He squeezed her so tightly she almost lost her breath. “Welcome to Imperia, draga,” he breathed into her neck.
Cool droplets of water soaked her clothing, but she didn’t care. She wound her arms around his neck and held him closer. “I’ve missed you so much. My house is empty without you.”
He pulled back from her ever so slightly. “I cannot go back with you, Julia. Not ever. But you can stay here. If you’d like.” His tone said: Please like.
Julia thought of Faith, her only true tie to Earth. She would miss her sister with every fiber of her being, but she knew Faith would be all right. And, with Faith’s blooming romance with Peter, Julia wouldn’t be leaving her sister alone. “I would like to stay with you. If you’ll have me.”
“If I will have you?” With another shout of delight, he smothered her face with kisses and nips. “I would die without you. I love you so much I ache.”
The men around them cheered loud and long. And Julia caught one man’s smile. He was tall, as tall as Tristan, with a scar that slashed down the left side of his face. She couldn’t help but grin back.
“I want to make you my wife. My life-mate,” he said. “I want to give you my children. You can open a shop at the market and all of Imperia will come to purchase your wares.”
“There is only one thing I need, Tristan, and that’s you.” Her contented smile grew as she stared into his eyes. She had never felt so whole and complete. “You’re a part of me I don’t want to live without. With you, I’m content.”
“We were always meant to find one another, I think.” Tristan cupped her chin in his hands. “You are willing to give up everything for me,” he said, awed by that fact.
“No, I am willing to chase what mattered most.”
“What matters most, Julia? Like you, I need the words. So tell me. What matters most to you?”
“My final lesson, of course.”
He stilled. Not what he had expected, but then, she had always done the unexpected. He grinned back at her. “Best you tell me what you would have this last lesson be.”
She gazed up at him through half-lowered lids. “Why, happily-ever-after, of course.”
“I will do better than that.” His gaze never strayed from hers. “I will give you forever, my beauty, my dragon. I give you my love, all my heart and my soul. I give you my name and my children.”
“I love you, Tristan.”
“By Elliea, I could live on those words alone. I love you, too.” Julia strengthened him, completed him in a way unknown to him until he’d first seen her. He could not breathe without her, could not function without her at his side. “Will you life-join with me, and have my children?” he asked, raining soft butterfly kisses upon
her face.
“Oh, that will be my pleasure.” Happy tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and her chin wobbled slightly.
“And my pleasure, as well. I will always be your pleasure slave. Always.”
“Hmm…” She pulled his lips to hers. “That’s all a girl can ask for.”
EPILOGUE
IT WAS SOON to become the loudest birth ever recorded in Imperian history.
“Tristan,” Julia said, panting, a sheen of sweat and pain dampening her brow. “How could you do this to me?”
He stilled, concerned for her, and quite baffled by her question. “Do what, draga?”
“Impregnate me, you bastard!”
At that, he chuckled, though the sound was strained. He hated that she was in so much pain and wanted to take it all into himself. He wiped her brow with a gentle hand. “Just imagine, my love. We will soon welcome our son into the world.”
Those words caused peace to settle over her features. “Yes. We will welcome our son.” The one who would rule all of Imperia, and the reason Tristan had been so confident she was having a boy.
Another pain hit her and she screamed. “If he doesn’t hurry I will personally drag him out.” As the pain faded, she drew in a breath, then another, then settled back on the bed.
“Does the pain leave you?” he asked hopefully.
“A little.” Closing her eyes, she uttered a tired sigh. “I can’t believe it. I’m about to become a mother.”
“Life is good. I can easily picture our boy sitting atop the royal throne. He will be known as a kind, giving king with a capacity for fairness that rivals even his mother’s.”
Except fifteen minutes later, Tristan welcomed his daughter into the world—a girl who would one day rule Imperia.
Julia and Tristan locked eyes—and laughed.
Holding the beautiful squalling infant in her arms, Julia nuzzled the baby’s neck, cooing soft words. “Finally,” she said, “a ruler of uncommon intelligence.”
Tristan remained unmoving. His laugher faded, and he just appeared shell-shocked. “A female sovereign,” he whispered.
Julia looked up at him through the spiky shield of her lashes. “You’re not disappointed, are you?”
“Nay, sweet.” He smiled down at her with love shining in his eyes. “I have never been happier.”
* * * * *
New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter returns with a brand-new dark and sexy addition to her top-selling Lords of the Underworld series featuring William, the story her fans have been clamoring for.
Watch for
The Darkest King
****
CHAPTER ONE
“You want a piece of me? Because your girlfriend certainly does.”
Sipping sugar water from a wine glass all classy-like, Sunday “Sunny” Lane snuck through a shadowy hotel bar overcrowded with youngish and oldish code breakers, hackers and hobbyists, her longtime friend…er, acquaintance Sable at her side. The six-foot black beauty came from the same realm and ancient village as Sunny. Most of the others were humans who’d flown into New York City early that morning to network and party. Tomorrow, everyone would attend workshops hosted by the world’s premiere cryptanalysts.
Sunny and Sable would be setting honeytraps for any immortals who hunted their kind.
A waiter approached with a bottle of white. “May I refill your drink, ma’am?”
Ma’am? The worst insult known to man. “No thanks.” Asterhole. Every creature like her was born with an innate magic that prevented them from cursing, changing obscenities into flowers. ‘Daisy’ replaced D.A.M.N. ‘Hellebore’ replaced H.E.L.L. ‘Sage’ replaced S.H.I.T. ‘Bluebell’ replaced B.A.S.T.A.R.D. and B.I.T.C.H. ‘Aster’ replaced A.S.S, and ‘freesia’ replaced F.U.C.K. “As a self-appointed superhero and proud vigilante, I prefer to stay sober and scumbag-aware.”
The waiter offered her an unsure smile before rushing off.
Sable clinked her glass of sugar water against Sunny’s. “Here’s hoping the duality serves us well tonight.”
Oh, yes. The duality. Half their nature demanded they hunt and kill immortal and human baddies. That side of her—Horror Show Sunny—worked as an assassin. A girl needed a purpose, right? The other half demanded she spread love, joy and peace—Roses and Rainbows Sunny—who worked as a decoder. The two sides were forever locked in a brutal tug-of-war.
“I posted online to let the world know I’d be here,” Sunny said. Stage one of their honeytrap.
As extremely rare “mythical” creatures, poachers hunted them for sport while collectors hunted them for pleasure. The very reason Sunny never stayed in one location more than a couple weeks. The very reason she trusted no one, ever. Not even Sable. Not fully, anyway. The very reason she constantly looked over her shoulder and rarely slept. If any of those POSs did attack…
They will die screaming.
“Once we’ve exterminated the remaining poachers and collectors, we won’t have to worry about ambush every second of every day,” Sable said, excitement crackling in her tone. “And we can turn our sights to the underworld royals.”
“All nine kings and every last prince of darkness.” Two princes of darkness in particular topped her list. Lucifer the Destroyer and William the Ever Randy. Even their names filled her with blistering rage. The terrible things Lucifer had done to her people… things he’d done while shouting, “For William!”
The two might be at war now, but they’d been inseparable back then.
Focus up. You’re here for a purpose, remember? Right. As she and Sable continued meandering through the crowd, she scanned the sea of faces. Some attendees ambled from group to group. Some remained in place, talking, laughing and clogging the pathways. Others stayed at their table, nursing drinks. Many were relaxed and at ease. Oh, to be uninvolved, unconcerned and untouched by the world’s evil, as oblivious to the surrounding danger as everyone else. Sunny couldn’t recall a time she’d ever felt safe.
Someone dropped a cup, glass shattering, jolting her from her musings. Both Sunny and Sable jolted. Deep breath in, out. Good, that’s good.
Able to read auras, she could distinguish immortals from humans. A life-saving skill. Ninety-nine percent of the time, poachers and collectors were immortal. Humans lacked the strength, stamina and skill to challenge creatures like Sunny. But enough was enough!
Sunny was determined. No more running. Finally, blessedly, she would live her life the way she dreamed. She’d buy a house and plant a garden. She would adopt a dog and a cat. The oldest, crankiest, ugliest mutt and tom at the pound. For the first time in years, she would go on a date; she just had to find the right guy. Someone willing to put in the work to earn her trust. One day, she would fall in love. Never again would she be forced to suffer through Mating Season alone. A time of clawing, gnawing, and uncontrollable sexual arousal.
“Hopefully we cross every name off our kill list in the next two weeks, before the start of the next Mating Season.” A time when sexual desire overtook every synapse in their brains and lust controlled their bodies. A total body shudder rocked her on her feet. “I’m tired of chaining myself in a locked room, so that I won’t jump unsuspecting or unwilling males, poachers or collectors.”
When she found her dream man … Sunny smiled.
“You and me both, girl,” Sable said. “One day, I’m going to melt down my chains and make them into a butt plug that I’ll gift to Lucifer. If he still lives, of course.”
Sunny’s smile widened. “I like the way your mind works.”
They ventured deeper into the bar. Clashing perfumes blended with cigarette smoke. Flicking lights illuminated a sea of unfamiliar faces. Human. Human. Human. Human. Vampire. Witch. Human. Human. Human. Werewolf. Though no one seemed to pay them any undue attention, Sunny kept a wary eye on the vampire, witch and werewolf.
Across the room, booming male laughter rang out. Warm shivers raced down her spine, and she frowned. What a strange reaction to som
ething so ordinary. Considering the number of voices tangled together, why note this one? Yes, it was sexy hot, but she’d heard hotter. Surely!
Sunny scanned the bar for the laugher—there! Him. He kept his back to her. He had thick black hair, broad shoulders, and a unique aura. One she couldn’t read.
“Daisy,” she muttered. The woman on the man’s left side leaned closer to whisper in his hear, and he shifted, presenting Sunny with his profile, and she sucked in a ragged breath, recognizing him in an instant.
A woman never forgot a face like his. He looked like he’d been made from a catalogue of parts. I’ll take that face, that hair and those eyes. Oh, and don’t forget those muscles. Everything about him seemed tailor made for sex. Flawless golden skin, jet-black hair, and vibrant eyes framed by the longest, spikiest lashes of all time. His irises were a color she’d never before beheld. Like a sapphire-diamond hybrid. Broad cheekbones tapered to a strong jaw shadowed with dark stubble. Perfect nose, perfect lips, perfect everything.
Hello, William the Ever Randy, brother to Lucifer. The bluebell.
“What? What’s wrong?” Sable asked, already reaching for the dagger hidden beneath her sleeveless jacket.
Rage sparked, quickly catching fire. An inferno blazed through her veins. “Look,” she grated, motioning to William. Had he heard about her vendetta against his family and come to stop her? Maybe, maybe not. But why else would he be here?
Why not sneak up on her? So many questions, so few answers.
“Speak of the devil,” Sable ground out, “and he appears.”
Sunny had done her research and knew he was an infamous mercenary and legendary womanizer who disdained the sanctity of marriage. A few years ago, he’d helped slay a god king. More recently, he’d gotten drunk at a nightclub and shouted, “I consider myself a pleasuretarian. I only eat organic pussy.”
“If rumors are true,” she said, “he sleeps with a new woman every night, possesses a fiery temper, sometimes injures his friends for laughs, and enjoys killing his enemies as painfully as possible.” So much to admire…so much to disdain.
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