She softened. “You still need the Cloak. You can’t be sure no one else will rise up against you, and it’s better for you to have every weapon at your disposal, rather than someone else’s.”
“Such a smart girl.”
“Besides, we can now search for the box,” she said, beaming.
All four artifacts, he mused, awed by this woman of his. She was right. They needed the artifacts, not only to keep them out of enemy hands but to find Pandora’s box and destroy it before anyone could use it against them. The goal they had been working toward so single-mindedly and for so long was nearer than ever to being met. “Let’s not go searching for the box just yet,” he said, tugging at her clothing.
“Such a smart boy.” She met his waiting mouth with her own, licking and kissing and sucking on him. “We’ll search later. Much later.”
IN A CORNER OF SIENNA’S MIND, a man’s thoughts bubbled up.
Strider’s voice, she realized. He was walking toward their bedroom, even then.
Knock. Knock.
“Go away,” Paris shouted, hands clenching on Sienna’s ass.
“I need to talk to you, man,” Strider replied, voice muffled through the doorway. “Also to Her Highness, who I assume is in there with you. I don’t really have to call her Your Highness, do I?”
“Yes, you do. But talk later.”
“Now. So, uh, yeah. I’m sorry. See ya.”
His footsteps faded away.
“What was that about?” Paris asked.
Sienna’s own thoughts filled her head.
“I love you, baby,” Paris said.
Her lips stretched into another grin. “I love you, too.”
When they were both naked, he sank inside her. He was home, finally home. And he was at peace. His woman was with him, and she wasn’t leaving him. They were going to be together.
Whatever else came, whatever else happened, they would be together, just as he’d wanted since the beginning.
EPILOGUE
ONCE AGAIN ZACHAREL found himself high in the heavens, Lysander beside him, the pair of them peering down at a very content Paris and Sienna.
“I gained her cooperation,” he said, “but not the way you wished. Paris will be joining her here.”
“This is not the travesty I had feared it would be,” Lysander replied. “When dealing with people and their emotions, allowances must always be made. I sometimes forget.”
Emotions. A waste of energy in Zacharel’s estimation. You lived, you warred and one day you died. Anything else was unnecessary.
Lysander continued, “I am surprised they complement each other so well, even more surprised they actually aid each other both emotionally and physically. I never would have guessed.”
Nor he. Paris should have dragged Sienna down. She should not have had the determination and strength to pull him up. “What happens now?”
“Now, I will begin Sienna’s training, and take responsibility for Paris. And you, in turn, will heed the Deity’s newest order.”
“Very well.” The Deity’s newest order—or rather, sentence—had come only this morning. Zacharel had been summoned to the Deity’s temple, where a second punishment for his prior sins had been heaped upon his head, as if the eternal snowfall wasn’t enough. “You must admit you have the easier task.”
“True. I do not envy you, my friend.”
Zacharel was to lead his own army of warriors. Warriors just like himself, only far worse. Men who had defied the rules one too many times. Men who would—supposedly—teach him the value of following heavenly laws.
They were like no other angels he’d ever dealt with. Some took lovers. Some cussed and drank. Some were tattooed and pierced, and as dark in spirit as many humans.
If he trained them well, the Deity had proclaimed, the snow would cease to fall from his wings, and he would be allowed to remain in the heavens himself. If he failed, if they failed, they would all fall together, forever banned from the only home they’d ever known.
Whatever it took, Zacharel
“If ever you need me,” Lysander said, pulling him from his musings, “you have only to call.”
“Thank you. I feel the same. If ever you need me…”
Was he? He and his men would find out together, he supposed.
Lords of the Underworld
Glossary of Characters and Terms
