DEMON ENSLAVED Lore is a Seminus half-breed demon who has
been forced to act as his dark master's assassin. Now to
earn his freedom and save his sister's life, he must
complete one last kill. Powerful and ruthless, he'll stop at
nothing to carry out this deadly mission. AN ANGEL
TEMPTED Idess is an earthbound angel with a wild side,
sworn to protect the human Lore is targeting. She's
determined to thwart her wickedly handsome adversary by any
means necessary-even if that means risking her vow of
eternal chastity. But what begins as a simple seduction soon
turns into a passion that leaves both angel and demon
craving complete surrender. Torn between duty and
desire, Lore and Idess must join forces as they battle their
attraction for each other. Because an enemy from the past is
rising again-one hellbent on vengeance and unthinkable
destruction.
Excerpt What. The. Fuck.
Lore stood like a dope, knee-deep in snow in the middle
of some godforsaken forest, cradling his would-be killer to
his chest and wondering how everything had gone to hell so
fast. He’d been a heartbeat away from completing his
assignment, and now he was in the middle of nowhere,
confused, and in pain.
Agony screamed through his chest with every breath.
Damned ribs were broken, and he’d had enough of them to
know. A raspy moan reminded him that the female in his arms
was far worse off. Whatever Tayla had shot her with had
done some serious damage.
He still wasn’t sure why he was holding her instead of
killing her. The bitch was mouthy, she’d tried to kill him,
and her heavy ass was hell on his ribs.
Though to be fair, she wasn't that heavy. Just…tall.
And curvy. And athletically solid. Hell, she looked like
she worked out with some serious weights.
As far as mouthy…damn, she had a nice one. Wide, with
full lips made to make a male beg. Her features were
perfect — finely wrought, delicate, feminine in a way that
was utterly at odds with the power she wielded. And she
smelled like she'd bathed in cinnamon sugar. Exotic. Sexy.
Yummy. But what the hell was she, why was she after him,
and why the fuck did he suddenly crave cookies in bed? The need to get the answers to his questions had him
putting out feelers for the nearest Harrowgate. His demon
senses picked up on one nearby, which was good, because
carrying her was going to hurt. As much as he hated to do
it, he’d have to get her to Underworld General so his
brothers could patch her up well enough for interrogation.
If someone had put a hit out on him, he needed to know.
He weaved through the trees, leaving a trail of blood —
both his and hers, in the snow as he limped toward the gate.
Twice he had to stop to gather her waist-length ponytail so
he didn’t step on it. At least it was tightly bound, the
thick brown rope secured every six inches or so by an
elaborately jeweled gold band. The effect, combined with her
smooth, porcelain skin and honey-colored, almond eyes, made
her one of the most striking females he’d ever seen.
But hey, if someone was going to try to kill him, he’d
rather it be a hot, bloodthirsty chick than some ugly-ass
dude. He hefted her higher to avoid impaling her on a tree
branch, and yep, definitely better that his would-be killer
was a feather-light female.
The Harrowgate loomed ahead, a vertical, shimmering
curtain of light, visible only to demons. He limped inside
and was immediately swallowed by almost complete darkness as
the gate closed. Obsidian walls etched with crude maps that
represented all of Earth and Sheoul surrounded him, the thin
lines that made up the maps glowing with different colors.
In his arms, the female spasmed, the force of her seizure
knocking him hard into the wall. Pain tore through his
shoulder and his arm went limp, and motherfuck, his left
shoulder had wrenched from the socket. Sucking air between
his teeth, he gently lowered the female to the floor and
used his good hand to tap out the map — North America, the
United States, New York state, New York City — until he
found the medical emblem that would take him to Underworld
General Hospital, which existed beneath the streets of New
York City, right under the humans’ noses.
Instantly, the gate opened into an emergency room
illuminated by red bulbs caged in rows on the ceiling. A
shimmer of unease went through him, which wasn’t a surprise,
given that the last time he was here, he’d come to kill his
brothers.
Talk about awkward.
Cookie was still lying motionless on the floor of the
Harrowgate, and she was going to stay there unless Lore got
his act together. He cradled his useless arm and eyed one
of the pillars supporting the Harrowgate entrance. Shit.
This was gonna hurt like a mother.
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