Larissa Ione - Passion Unleashed

She raised her eyebrows. “Why would people borrow it?”

“It’s been in his family for centuries, but no one knows precisely what it does. Only that it has been associated with the catacombs, and whenever a new section is excavated, his artifact becomes an object of interest.”

“And now that you know the location of the coin, you think his artifact is significant?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, then. I’ll get going.” Giddy, because this might be the find of a lifetime, Serena headed for the door.

“Serena.” Val’s voice stopped her in her tracks, and when she turned, his dark gaze sent a chill of foreboding up her spine. “Be very careful.”

“Always,” she lied.

“You can’t be too careful,” he said. “Don’t ever forget that, Sere. Never.”

The worst thing about dying slowly wasn’t the dying part. It was the fact that the poison the assassin used had all but killed Wraith’s libido.

He used to require sex a dozen times a day. Since last week when he’d awakened from the drugged stupor his brothers had put him in, he’d been lucky to feel a stir every couple of days.

Yep, dying sucked. Dying slowly sucked, anyway. He’d made a few valiant attempts to accelerate things a bit since he’d escaped the hospital without his brothers’ knowledge, had put himself in some seriously shit situations in demon pubs, had antagonized entire nests of vampires just for fun, and had interrupted a Nightlash demon hunt—never a good idea to get between a dozen Nightlashes and their meal. The battles had been exhilarating, brief, and bloody. Wraith had been outnumbered but never outclassed, and he’d limped away from every one of the fights.

Whether or not he’d truly won was the question.

E had been calling several times a day, calls that Wraith had ignored, though he had gone into UG last night and what he had seen there shocked him.

The hospital had been severely understaffed. As he’d stood in the emergency department, a section of the ceiling had collapsed. Every demon he’d come across seemed agitated; rumor had it that an army was starting to gather in the outer reaches of Sheoul, but no one could confirm it. Besides, a demon army was always gathering somewhere, each time some territorial warlord started something up with another.

Wraith didn’t bother knocking on E’s door. He opened up and immediately Tayla’s ferret Mickey scampered down the hall, his tiny nails clicking on the hardwood floor. The critter climbed Wraith’s jeans-clad leg and waist until he was happily tucked in the crook of Wraith’s right arm.

“Hey, buddy,” Wraith murmured. “Where’s my brother?”

He headed for E’s office, nodded at Tayla and Gem, who were baking something chocolate in the kitchen, but who looked pretty damned grim as they stood there with tall glasses of orange juice in their hands. Their Soulshredder species was tropical, and they required large amounts of vitamin C, especially if they were stressed out.

Wraith wondered how many gallons they’d already gone through this morning. Hell, Gem had been downing the stuff like vodka ever since Kynan had quit the hospital and gone back to the military. Whatever. The guy was decent—he’d volunteered his rein to Wraith a time or two—but when it came down to it, Wraith could kill Kynan as easily as he could look at him.

“Eidolon’s in the den with Shade,” Tay said, and oh, great… this was a family get-together. Must be really bad.

Cursing to himself, because he really didn’t need this shit, he stepped into E’s study, where Shade was lounging on the leather sofa with E’s dog Mange at his feet. Eidolon sat at his desk, nose buried in a medical text. He looked up as Wraith closed the door, and for the first time since telling Wraith he was going to die, E didn’t look at him with sorrow in his dark eyes.

“What’s up?” Wraith said, taking a seat. Mickey chattered indignantly and scrambled onto his T-shirted shoulder, then draped himself around Wraith’s neck like a fur stole.

“I think we’ve found a way to save your life.”

Wraith’s pulse went double-time, but he forced himself to stay level. What E had just said sounded great, but there was still a serious set to his mouth, so something wasn’t all blood and fun here. “Lay it on me.”

“You’re going to have to steal a charm from someone.”

“A charm? Like a dangly little bracelet thing?”

“Not exactly,” Shade said. “This charm is a divine blessing that makes the recipient immune to harm. You’ll have to take it from the owner.”

Wraith narrowed his eyes at Shade. “Something tells me that stealing this charm won’t be as easy as getting up an Orgesu’s skirt.”

“Depends on how you look at it.” Shade shifted on the couch, his leather pants squeaking on the cushions. “I mean, it involves sex.”

“Well, then, things are looking up. So what’s the challenge?”

Shade exchanged glances with Eidolon before saying, “Ah, well… you’ll have to seduce the owner. The charm can only be transferred through sex. Willing sex. Obviously, if she’s charmed, she can’t be forced.”

“Seduction isn’t a problem.” Hell, no. Females came to him willingly. At least, they had until he’d gone through s’genesis and gained the facial markings that flashed warnings to all demon things female. Now he had to resort to trickery to get laid.

If he were like every other mature Seminus demon on the planet, the deception wouldn’t bother him. Thanks for the human DNA, mommy dearest. The human part of him hated being unable to have sex in his true form, hated having to resort to tricks to get a female to lay with him. The demon part of him required it.

“Hold up.” Wraith had been petting Mickey, but now he froze, his hand hovering over the weasel’s spine. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? There’s always a catch.”

E nodded. Stalled. Finally blurted, “She’s human.”

Wraith rocked backward, earning a sharp scold from Mickey. “No.”

“Wraith—”

“I said, no!” He swore, robustly, in several languages. “What kind of fucked-up charm-release spell requires sex?” Unless… oh, shit. “She’s a virgin, isn’t she? Damn it to Hades, she’s a fucking virgin.” E said nothing, which was confirmation enough. Wraith shoved to his feet. “Not only no, but fuck no. In fact, let me count the ways I can say no.” He started to tick off his fingers, but Shade stood, slowly, as if he was afraid sudden movement would make Wraith bolt.

“Bro. Chill. It’s no big deal. Once it’s done, you’ll be charmed, and the Seminus Council won’t be able to punish you. Even if they could, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad? It took E a full day to recover after he popped that hippie chick’s cherry.”

Deflowering humans was forbidden for most species of demons, and E had accidentally taken a woman’s virginity nearly fifty years ago. Guardian angels were serious tattletales, and E had been forced to endure a severe flaying by Seminus Council members.

Wraith’s reluctance to take a virgin had little to do with the punishment, and both his brothers knew it. “I swore I would never screw a human again, let alone a virgin—”

“I know,” E interrupted. “But this is life or death.”

Flashes of the past blinked in his head, the years he’d spent in a cage, held there by his own evil mother. Innocent female humans had been stripped and tossed into his cage after their virginity had been taken—brutally—by the vampires who had brought them to him. Vamps, since they were technically human, weren’t subject to the can’t-deflower-virgins rule. So they’d gotten off on waiting until Wraith was nearly mad with lust, and then they’d raped the females in front of him, tossed them in the cage, and sat back to watch and wait.