Free The Darkest Pleasure by Gena Showalter

it’ll do any good. Still.”
    Strider grinned. “But you’re so pretty when you’re in love.”
    Sabin flipped him off.
    Love? Was Reyes capable of such an emotion? “Night has fallen. Let’s go.” He pounded toward the front door.
    Anya latched on to his arm, her fingernails digging into his bare flesh. “Hold it right there, sweetness. You don’t know the way.”
    He barely managed to plant his feet into the concrete. “And you do?”
    “Of course.” Her nails sank deeper, cutting skin, and he nearly moaned at the heady sting. “Lucien tells me everything.”
    “Guide us, then, but do it now. I won’t spend another second inside this building, and I will break into every shop, home and structure that I encounter if necessary.”
    “So impatient.” She tsked under her tongue and released him. “I admire that in a man. Just…keep up with me. If you can.”
    With that, she claimed the lead. Everyone else filed out behind her. Overwarm, stuffy air became cool and fragrant, a mix of good and bad aromas: fresh flowers, car exhaust, baked breads and cloying perfume. Multihued lights pulsed from signs—Nude Dancers Here—and horns blared in a hurried symphony. Footsteps clomped in every direction, though nothing overshadowed the frantic dance of Reyes’s heart.
    At one time, he had dreamed of traveling, of seeing this new world he’d hidden from for hundreds of years, but he had been bound to Budapest by Maddox’s curse. Now, he didn’t care about the world around him. He just wanted to reach Danika.
    Though he and the others remained in the shade as much as possible, humans did notice them. Some jumped out of their way, some stared. Most grinned, seemingly fascinated. Not the typical mortal reaction; even the Buda townspeople were more respectful than friendly. Hollywood, Sabin had said. Reyes realized these humans thought the men were part of a movie.
    A few times, Paris stopped to steal a kiss from a willingfemale. He was as helpless against his demon as Reyes was, so when Promiscuity wanted to play, Paris took time to play. Otherwise, he weakened unbearably. But for the first time in all their years together, Paris did not look as if he enjoyed the kissing.
    Reyes didn’t slow, didn’t wait for his friend or ask him what was wrong. Urgency pounded through him, harder and more intense with every slap of his boots against concrete. Anya turned a corner, her long pale hair a beacon in the night. Down a dirty alley she escorted them, the scent of urine suddenly saturating the air.
    When she turned the next corner, she tossed an anticipatory smile over her shoulder. “We’re almost there.”
    Reyes palmed his gun and a knife. They were so familiar to him, so much a part of him, they were almost a natural extension of his hands. Not much longer now and you’ll see her. Soon, very soon, the battle would begin.
    He would not leave a single survivor.
    Around him, he could feel the adrenaline surges of his friends. War was a part of them, infused in their every cell. They’d been made for it, after all.
    The Greeks, their creators, had known the ease with which a heavenly being could be toppled, for they themselves had fought and imprisoned the Titans. In an effort to protect themselves from the same fate, the Greeks used the blood of the god of war to breed immortal warriors, and thereby an army of defenders.
    After the dimOuniak tragedy, with Pandora slain, the box missing and the demons locked inside the warriors responsible, the gods had banished them to earth. New warriors had been recruited to take their place. Not that they’d done the Greeks any good in the end, Reyes thought with a satisfied smile.
    “Just a bit more…” Anya breathed, excited. There was no better replacement for Maddox. Anya adored violence.
    A large trash can burned ahead, the golden flames flickering, smoke billowing. Four men stood around it, one holding out a spoon, melting a small, solid mass into bubbling liquid. With