Free Lords of the Underworld Bundle by Gena Showalter

stomach, six hellish times. The only difference was, her torment had ended within minutes.
    His torment would last for eternity.
    He popped his jaw, trying to relax against a new onslaught of aggression. It wasn’t as if he were the only one to suffer, he reminded himself. The other warriors had their own demons—literally and figuratively. Torin, of course, was keeper of Disease. Lucien was keeper of Death. Reyes, of Pain. Aeron, of Wrath. Paris, of Promiscuity.
    Why couldn’t he have been given that last one? He would have been able to journey to town anytime he wished, take any woman he desired, savoring every sound, every touch.
    As it was, he could never venture far. Nor could he trust himself around females for long periods of time. If the demon overtook him or if he could not return home before midnight and someone found his dead, bloody body and buried him—or worse, burned him…
    How he wished such a thing would end his miserable existence. He would have left long ago and allowed himself to be roasted in a pit. Or perhaps he would have jumped from the fortress’s highest window and smashed his brains from his skull. But no. No matter what he did, he’d merely awaken once again, charred as well as sore. Broken as well as sliced.
    â€œYou’ve been staring at that window for a while,” Torin said. “Aren’t you even curious as to what’s happened?”
    Maddox blinked as he was dragged from his thoughts. “You’re still here?”
    His friend arched a black brow, the color a startling contrast to his silver-white hair. “I believe the answer to my question is no. Are you calm now, at least?”
    Was he ever truly calm? “As calm as a creature like me can be.”
    â€œStop whining. There’s something I need to show you, and don’t try to deny me this time. We can talk about my reason for disturbing you along the way.” Without another word, Torin spun on his booted heel and strode from the room.
    Maddox remained in place for several seconds, watching his friend disappear around the corner. Stop whining, Torin had said. Yes, that’s exactly what he had been doing. Curiosity and wry amusement pushed past his lethal mood, and Maddox stepped from the gym into the hallway. A cold draft of air swirled around him, thick with moisture and the crisp scents of winter. He spied Torin a few feet away and stalked forward, quickly closing in.
    â€œWhat’s this about?”
    â€œFinally. Interest,” was the only response.
    â€œIf this is one of your tricks…” Like the time Torin had ordered hundreds of blow-up dolls and placed them throughout the fortress, all because Paris had foolishly complained about the lack of female companionship in town. The plastic “ladies” had stared out from every corner, their wide eyes and let-me-suck-you mouths taunting everyone who passed them.
    Things like that happened when Torin was bored.
    â€œI wouldn’t waste my time trying to trick you,” Torin said without turning to face him. “You, my friend, have no sense of humor.”
    True.
    As Maddox kept pace, stone walls stretched at his sides; sconces glowed, pulsing with light and fire, twining shadow with gold. The House of the Damned, as Torin had dubbed the place, had been built hundreds of years ago. Though they had modernized it as best they could, the age showed in the crumbling rock and the scuffed floors.
    â€œWhere is everyone?” Maddox asked, only then realizing he hadn’t spotted any of the others.
    â€œYou’d think Paris would be shopping for food since our cabinets are nearly bare and that’s his only duty, but no. He’s out searching for a new woman.”
    Lucky bastard. Possessed as he was by Promiscuity, Paris could not bed the same woman twice, and so he seduced a new one—or two or three—every day. The only downside? If he couldn’t find a woman, he was reduced