Wicked Abyss Read online

  But she did know that without that ring, she could now bail over the terrace edge, escaping the tower to get to Sylvan.

  Would she jeopardize her life out in Pandemonia to warn her kingdom about the Morior's invasion?

  Yes. Maybe they could evacuate or call on every Vertas ally to mount a defense. Maybe this was why Lila had been reincarnated.

  All she needed was one sympathetic demon in this realm. . . . Ready to undertake this mission, she got busy.

  In a blur, she ripped and tore and sewed. Not even half an hour later, she'd crafted coverings for her arms, hands, and feet out of the bedding, and a protective apron from the rug.

  Once she'd completed her preparations, she changed into her dinner dress, the skirt now shortened to her knees, and fastened the rug shield over it.

  Chip and Dale gazed on with curiosity. "I know how ridiculous I look," she told them. "But desperate times . . ." She stuffed her pumps into her makeshift bag, along with her remaining fire-vine powder.

  One last detail. She used ash to scribble a message on the back of Abyssian's invitation to dinner. Then she left the note and the ring on her stripped bed.

  With a final look around, she headed to the terrace railing. A fall from this height would prove deadly, but the risk didn't deter her.

  She saluted Chip and Dale, who skittered with disapproval, then swung her legs over. When she grasped the nearest vine, she gritted her teeth as she waited for the familiar pain to sear through her. . . .

  Nothing! Her improvised mitts and footwear were working, protecting her from burns.

  She began to climb down, picking her way among the crisscrossing tangle. Once she grew accustomed to the various strengths of the vines, she quickly descended the rest of the way.

  On the ground, she wanted to scream her victory. Free! I told you I would escape, Abyssian. She would never go back to that tower. Never.

  She drew her shoes out of her bag and slipped them on. After removing her mitts and rug apron, she stuffed them into the bag. They might come in handy again.

  She surveyed her surroundings, spying not a single soul, nor any animals. Everything looked so different from down here. Matching landmarks against her memory, she headed along a black rock path to the lava river.

  A three-way divide greeted her. Left would take her toward the sea Abyssian had spoken of. Right would take her in the direction of eternally punished demons. They couldn't free themselves from this place much less her. Hoping for a happy medium, she chose straight, the path wending alongside the river.

  She followed it for leagues, the rocky terrain turning into silvery grasslands. Wispy shrubs with razor-sharp thorns lined the trail, and the river tapered.

  Still no sign of demons.

  If she couldn't find someone to teleport her, maybe she could locate the Pando-Sylvan rift. How big could hell be anyway? She'd only read estimates of its size.

  After her confinement, she was eager to run. She stowed her cumbersome shoes, then took off down the trail. The farther she got from the castle, the more the skies cleared.

  A full moon hung heavy in the sky, lighting her path as the prairie grasslands gave way to volcanic mounds covered with strange plant life.

  I'm entering the wilds of Pandemonia.

  Hell seemed eager to show Lila all its wonders. She zoomed past huge flowers with black petals, their blooms the size of satellite dishes. Giant ferns unfurled their glittering silver fronds. Dragonflies as big as eagles darted overhead. Smaller streams of lava crisscrossed each other like red-hot braids.

  High in the sky, silhouettes of dragons raced across the moon.

  Though completely foreign to her, this realm didn't intimidate her. She craved hell's wildness; it seemed to well up inside her and demand a release.

  Tonight, so many aspects of Pandemonia reminded her of . . . sex. The scent of flames. The bold colors. The constant pressure, friction, and eruptions.

  The lava was fiery and vivid, like Abyssian's hypnotic skin.

  Where had that thought come from?

  The sky grew brighter. Tiny insects hovered in the air, each one carrying a minuscule tendril of flame, as an ant would carry a leaf.

  Real fireflies! She couldn't contain a laugh, crying, "More!"

  Pandemonia obliged. Pent-up volcanoes rumbled, and the fireflies swirled.

  She'd assumed the wilds of hell would be, well, hellish. Not awesome. Out here, she felt alive, her senses sparking as never before. She was brimming with energy, and her blistering speed increased even more.

  Her arousal was off the charts.

  She felt immortal. No, like a goddess. Confidence surged inside her--

  A roar sounded, echoing over the dimension.

  Abyssian.

  His mate was loose. In hell.

  Something had set off the spiders in Calliope's tower, tearing him from his stupor. But she wasn't in any of the rooms.

  How had she gotten free? How? Had his protections failed during the hell manipulation? Can't lose her again!

  He traced to her bed. Beneath her ring was a message written in ash:

  This round goes to me, demon. I left your castle standing (though your pride should be in rubble right about now).

  C

  He scented the air, but she wasn't in the vicinity. Which meant she was likely dead.

  No. Never. Never again. His claws and fangs shot longer. Control yourself, or lose her forever.

  He closed his eyes, searching his realm. Searching . . .

  There! He sensed her close to hell's forest. Normally, he would use magic to secure her, but his life force was too low. He traced, appearing on a peak that overlooked the region.

  How had she gotten this far from Graven? He spotted her in the distance. Still alive!

  She was running full bore, her feet barely touching the ground, her legs a blur. She headed toward several traps.

  "Calliope, STOP!"

  She slowed, searching the night for him. She gazed up and turned to face him. Whatever she saw in his appearance made her raise her brows. She tensed to run again.

  If he traced after her, he would lose sight of her for a precious instant. By the time he'd reached her last position, she could have already raced away.

  "There are traps all around you," he called. "Bottomless pits and quicksand bogs. If you come with me now, I'll give you your freedom."

  "Right," she called back, her sarcasm carrying. "I'm going to believe that."

  "You'll come with me, or you'll die out here tonight."

  She smiled at him. "I've never felt more alive. And I've got things to do."

  He held up his palms. "Calliope, I am asking you to return with me."

  "Are you inviting me?"

  "Yes!"

  "Consider this my RSVP." She raised her middle finger.

  He had tried to bargain with her. His only other option: threats. "If you don't stop where you are, I will--"

  "Get fucked, Abyssian," she interrupted.

  "Godsdamn it, this isn't a game!"

  "Then why is it so fun?" She blew him a kiss and charged away.

  He traced to a point ahead of her on the path, but she'd already blown past him. He pivoted and trailed her through the brush.

  How had she escaped? The castle might have helped her. If so, he could never let her out of his sight again--unless he could figure out some way to keep her in hell of her own volition. Sensing a trap ahead, he yelled, "There's a pitfall!"

  A split second later, she teetered along the edge. "Abyssian!" she screamed, her arms pinwheeling. "Help me!"

  He traced, diving for her. If I don't reach her . . . He materialized in midair. Frowned.

  She was gone; to the sound of her laughter, he shot headfirst into the pit.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sucker!" The trickster had fallen for such an old trick?

  Somehow sensing exactly where to place her feet, Lila continued on. The flowers and ferns gave way to spindly trees, and she neared a
dark wall of some kind.

  No, not a wall. Moonrakers: enormous trees often found in demon dimensions.

  She raced into the murky forest, gaping at the size of the trunks. They made redwoods look like twigs. Face raised, she spun as she ran. The leaves were silver, the bark as black as Abyssian's eyes.

  Reminded of his pursuit, she increased her pace. Light cascaded from a clearing ahead. What would hell show her next? She burst into the clearing and stopped short.

  In a silver-grass glen, a cascade of . . . gold flowed. An illuminated goldfall.

  Molten ore--the same shade as her dress--poured from a cliff into a large steaming pool. "My gods." She wanted to stare at such a scene forever. But he closed in on her; she could hear his breaths.

  Abyssian appeared mere feet behind her. He lunged for her, snaring her bag. She twisted, shimmying from the strap, then took off.

  He tossed away the bag, yelling, "Enough, female!"

  She hurried past the pool--then skidded to a stop. Dead end. The tree trunks were all grown together. The demon had cornered her.

  She ran behind the fall of gold, slowing along the pool's edge.

  He scowled at her from the opposite side. When he went to her right, she fled left. He adjusted his course; so did she. They both slowed, gauging what the other would do.

  "How did you get the ring off?" he demanded.

  "Like it was hard?"

  "You could have been killed a dozen times over out here. Is your captivity so unbearable that you'd risk your life? Or are you bent on getting to Sylvan?"

  She raised her chin.

  "Do you really believe warning your kingdom will save them from me?"

  "Instead I should sit in that tower and do nothing? You might not give a shit about the inhabitants of Pandemonia--other than devising ways to punish them--but I care about my fellow fey."

  "You've already sliced your cheek open . . ." He trailed off. "Calliope . . . it's healing. The wound is mending without the ring."

  She reached for her face; the tingle of regeneration was unfamiliar, but pleasant.

  He exhaled a gust of breath. "You're an immortal now."

  It'd finally happened! No wonder she felt so supercharged.

  I am supercharged.

  "But even an immortal can die out here. Calliope, do you want this to be the last night of your life?" he asked, his gaze stricken.

  Oh, yes, his interest in her was about so much more than revenge. Some part of her had hoped Nix was wrong, that no tie between Lila and Abyssian existed. His expression left no doubt in Lila's mind.

  I'm his mate.

  He offered his hand. "I will take you home, and we will discuss this. Can we not be reasonable?"

  She straightened. "I'm not going back to that tower."

  Seeming to reach the end of his patience, he clenched his big fists. "I'm king of this realm--you'll go wherever I bloody tell you to."

  Ha! "You'll have to catch me first." As if he could. "And you're looking worn out there, relic. The old-timer didn't have his nap today?"

  The sculpted muscles of his bare torso tensed. "You're going to pay for that one, female."

  "Threats, Abyssian? What're you going to do? Lock me up?"

  Voice gone husky, he said, "Maybe I'll toss you into my bed, and we won't leave it for years."

  She hated how smug and arrogant and sexy he made those words sound. Her attention shifted down. Whoa. "You've got a hard-on. Shocking. You get off on the chase?" She sidled to her left.

  He eased that way also, so she edged back to compensate. "If so, I'm not the only one. I can scent how much you enjoyed my pursuit."

  She followed his gaze as it dipped to her bodice. The gold material clung to her breasts, outlining her hard nipples. "Overstimulation." She was in heat. Couldn't be helped.

  "How long will you use that excuse?"

  "As long as I'm still suffering from it." Even now, she was torn between the impulse to throat-punch Abyssian and the urge to explore his glyphs. With her tongue.

  His eyes flickered from green to black and back. "Want to hear a secret that most young Loreans don't know? Overstimulation never lets up. You simply learn to deal with it better over the years."

  "You're lying." In this state, she could barely think! She'd assumed there was a set time limit. If this lust went on indefinitely . . .

  "Not at all. The years will bear that out, and I look forward to them. But first I need to get you out of danger. I'm about to trace, little fey. I've got a fifty-fifty shot of predicting which way you'll go."

  "Whatever you're going to do, you better be quick about it. Because I'm faster than I've ever been."

  He lunged to her left; she skirted right--

  Arms snagged her waist. The demon had faked her out and tackled her!

  The force sent them hurtling across the glen. His wings closed around her, and he twisted to take the impact as they landed.

  She was . . . unharmed? He'd handled her like a crystal vase someone had beaned at him.

  He released her from his wings, but only to flip her onto her back in the silvery grass. Levering himself above her, he pinned her wrists above her head.

  Neither of them moved. Their breaths sounded loud, even over the bubbling pool. As his body loomed over her, his massive size registered in a way it never had before. He's a lethal warrior.

  His scent--clean sweat and fire--hit her. Overstimulation left her dazed. The molten gold lovingly highlighted his features, the color matching his glyphs.

  Light played over his straightened horns. His sweat-slicked skin. His brutal but mesmerizing face.

  When had he grown as captivating as the rest of this world? Rugged terrain; rugged demon.

  He looked like hell's version of a sex divinity.

  Inner shake. This was a Morior holding her. She thrashed against him, didn't gain an inch.

  "I scent your arousal, female. If it's anything like mine, you're frantic for release." He wedged his hips between her thighs, propping himself over her. Only their clothes and a slight space separated their bodies.

  She was high from her immortality, from exploring Pandemonia. If overstimulation lasted forever, her chances of resisting him grew dim.

  What was he about to do? Better question: what was she about to do? Urges racked her.

  She wanted to lick his lips, to clutch his generous pecs. Her fingers opened and closed as she imagined sinking her nails into his narrow hips and yanking him against her.

  His smoldering gaze raked over her body. "You're so fucking sexy." He rubbed his pointed tongue over one of his fangs.

  The sight made her shiver. Helpless to resist, she rocked her hips. She sucked in a breath when her pussy briefly pressed against his hard dick. The unreal heat of it reached her through their clothes.

  "Lila, yes!" He shuddered, but he didn't grind against her, just held himself there. "Again . . ."

  Staring into his onyx eyes, she wantonly undulated for more of his addictive heat. Her skirt hiked up, almost exposing her, but she didn't care.

  Not now. Not on the first night of her immortality.

  Sian wanted to roar with triumph. He'd gone from believing his mate would die tonight--to discovering she was a true immortal.

  If she would let him protect her further, history would not repeat itself.

  And now she lay beneath him, looking like an offering. Her loose hair streamed out across the grass, those locks shining in the goldlight. Her cheeks were flushed, her tapered ears pinkened. Her heavy-lidded eyes were blazing teal.

  She bit her bottom lip, clearly debating whether to undulate again.

  "Do it, female," he rasped. "You want to do it." He could scent her lush wetness. "Didn't it feel good?"

  She rubbed up against him, making him dizzy with pleasure. "I saw the way you looked at me earlier, demon. See the way you're looking at me now." She repeated the sensuous movement, beginning to pant. "This is more than revenge. You were either in love with Karinna or
she was your mate."

  Between breaths, he said, "I've hated Kari--you--for ten millennia."

  "Deny it, then." She rocked upward again, but he needed more contact between them.

  He wanted more of his mate. He thrust against her, drawing a moan from her throat. Not enough.

  When he reached for her skirt, her eyes went wide. "No! I don't want you to fuck me."

  "I'm not. Yet." He grasped her skirt, searching her expression.

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  He raised the material to reveal her mouthwatering sex. Atop her mons, she had a small patch of sandy-brown curls. Her little clitoris pouted for his touch--for his tongue--and the trimmed curls around her lips were soaked.

  His horns shot straighter, his body in a lather for that wetness. "Gods almighty."

  He tore open his pants, wincing when his cock sprang free. His pierced shaft thickened even more when he laid it over her clit. At the contact, he hissed in a breath between his teeth.

  Moisture beaded the crown, a maddening hint of the ejaculation his mate would give him. Catching her sultry gaze, he commanded her, "Use it."

  Lila whimpered when his ridiculously big dick pressed down on her.

  Her bunched-up skirts kept her from getting a look at it--and maybe that was a good thing.

  When she felt his searing flesh throb against her, she moaned, "It's so hot." She writhed, rubbing her slick pussy along his shaft.

  Wait . . . was he pierced? She undulated again, perceiving uniform ridges along the underside, like metal barbells. They felt unbelievable. "Oh, my gods!" Her release grew closer, her moisture spreading over him.

  His eyes were fully black. "More." His wings extended, his magnificent body gone rigid with tension.

  She gave him more--rocking faster and faster with short snaps of her hips.

  His jaw slackened as he watched her. "Can't even see your movements . . . just a blur! What the fuck . . . are you doing . . . to me?" He sounded dazed. "Ahh! Use it, Lila. Use it to come."

  She did, uncaring of anything but her approaching orgasm. At this point, she would've let him shove that pierced dick inside her.

  Between ragged breaths, he said, "About to come! It's so good . . . so fucking good. Do not stop." His length pulsated over her.

  With a moan, she increased the tempo.

  In Demonish, he rasped, "You make me insane. Madden me! Never get enough of you. Never."

  The ground rumbled; pillars of stone erupted behind him! His horns and wings cast wicked shadows against that backdrop.