REYES AWOKE GRADUALLY, his senses already on alert thanks to several oddities.

One, there was a weight on his chest. Warm, so warm, and soft. He was used to waking unfettered, a little cold. Two, the scent of thunderstorms and angel-skies filled his nose, sultry and erotic. It was a scent he craved with every fiber of his being, but one that was dangerous to his peace of mind. Three, he never wanted to leave this paradise.

Pain did not agree.

Pain was prowling the cage of Reyes's mind, roaring. Roaring so loudly Reyes covered his ears. The weight on his chest shifted to the side, taking with it that delicious warmth and softness.

The roaring increased in volume, and he cringed.

"You okay?"

The voice of an angel, a perfect match for the scent. Danika. The roaring became a broken mewling, her rich timbre soothing the beast.

What was it about her? What made her so different from the other women he'd known?

Ashlyn had alleviated Maddox's torment. Anya had renewed Lucien's desire to love. Both women had accepted the warriors for who and what they were. Danika enhanced Reyes's pain and drove him crazy. She would never accept him. But even if a miracle happened and she could, he would never be able to bed her, thereby allowing Pain to sink its claws inside her. Change her.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

As a couple, they were hopeless.

That failed to lessen his need for her. Again, he wondered why. She was pretty, intelligent and courageous, but other women were equally so. Weren't they? At the moment, he could think of no one else whose bright eyes pierced him to his soul. No one else whose silky hair caressed his skin so perfectly. No one else who faced him dead on and refused to back down.

Only Danika.

Her name whispered through his mind, and he eased open his eyelids. First thing he noticed was that morning sunlight seeped past the black curtains, painting hazy yellow dots everywhere he looked. Normal enough. Then a dazzling halo appeared in front of him, strands of pale hair tickling his chest. A soft breast meshed into his side.

"You okay?" Danika asked again. Concern burned in her sleep-rich eyes, lids at half-mast. Through the thick shield of her spiked lashes, he could see electric green, his new favorite color. "You took quite a beating last night."

"Last night?" His voice was raspy, and every word rubbed his throat raw. A delicious sensation. "Your hair." He reached up and drew several strands through his fingers. "Pale again."

"I took another shower and the semipermanent dye washed the rest of the way out."

"I like it."

Appearing uncomfortable, she nibbled on her bottom lip.

His body heated another degree. Oh, to have those teeth nibbling on him again. "Last night?" he prompted.

"With Aeron. In his cell."

The memories flooded him, images flashing one after another, and he jerked upright. He'd taken Danika into the dungeon. He'd entered Aeron's cell. Aeron had looked guilty at the mention of Danika's family, as if he'd already taken one - or more - out. Then Aeron had attacked him and Pain had loved it.

Mortification created a symphony inside him: the pound of his heart, the rush of his blood, the purr of his demon. He'd reveled in it, and Danika had been there, had seen him take pleasure in so vicious an act.

Shamed to his soul, he closed his eyes, dropped his head into his waiting hands. She doesn't know, he assured himself. Otherwise, she would not be sitting calmly on the bed, conversing with you. She would be hurling insults like "pervert" and "deviant."

Some women could accept his particular brand of pleasure. Most could not. For a few years, Reyes had found his partners in BDSM clubs. They'd been secret venues back then. Private. The women had liked to be strapped down, whipped, and he'd liked delivering the pain. And when he'd commanded them to hurt him, they'd done so willingly, happily.

But after learning that the women he'd bedded had erupted in violent sprees, he'd stopped going to the clubs. For centuries, he'd relied only on his own hand, cutting himself while he fisted his cock. Then he'd had what he'd considered an epiphany. Surely those females had been predisposed to violence. Surely that was why they'd harmed innocents so casually after bedding him.

So he'd tried again, this time taking Paris's advice and choosing Sunday-school teachers and librarians as his bedmates. The first few times he'd asked them to wear spurs on their ankles and dig them into his back. Among other things he did not like to recall. "You're sick," a few had cried. "Get help, you pervert."

If only they had continued to resist him.

Before long, they, too, had begun to crave pain. For themselves, a thousand others. When he noticed the hungry glint burning deep in their eyes, he'd ceased all contact, hoping, praying they would morph back into the women they'd once been. They hadn't.

Soft fingers brushed his brow, smoothing his hair out of the way. Always before, that type of touch had disgusted him. Physically, he'd felt nothing, so the gesture had merely reminded him of what he could never have. Only the hard bite of nails and the sharp sting of teeth had delighted him.

Here, now, with Danika, he still felt nothing physically, but the generous act rocked him emotionally and he found it just as tantalizing as a sting. She had never touched him like this before.

Your demon infects every woman you desire. To have Danika is to damn her soul. Do not forget.

"Reyes?"

He blinked, Danika coming into slow focus. "Yes."

"I lost you."

"I am sorry. You are well?" he asked.

"Yes."

Her hand fell away from him, and both he and the demon wanted to shout in protest. He blinked in surprise. The demon was upset? Missing a soft touch?

"There was a...creature with Aeron."

"Yes," Reyes said with a nod. "I remember."

"Had you seen it before? Do you know where it came from?"

"I had not, but I know it came from hell." Pain had recognized it for what it was - a brother in evil. Reyes turned his head, facing Danika. "Do not concern yourself with him."

She paled, color fading to snow-white. Whatever thoughts danced in her head were not pleasant. "Why didn't you fight him?"

"The little demon?"

"No. Aeron. I've seen you engage him in combat before. You weren't afraid. You were strong and..." She gulped, as though the rest of the confession pained her. "Capable. But this time, you just stood there. You let him hurt you."

"The Darkest Pleasure"

Reyes straightened fully, his eyes never leaving her. Her legs curved behind her, her hip flat on the mattress. She rested her weight on one elbow, her hair a glorious silk curtain that fell over her shoulders. She still wore jeans. Jeans he had picked out for her. He felt pride and satisfaction, for he'd spent hours shopping for her, hopeful he would one day see her in what he chose.

Her features were so delicate. She could have fallen straight from the heavens and he would not have been surprised. Small, pert nose, rounded cherub cheeks. Ruby-red lips that glistened.

As always, the sight of her caused his chest to ache. Pain loved it, loved the ache and the ensuing hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. Reyes smiled wryly. Perhaps he would simply gaze upon Danika for the rest of her too-short human life. His demon would always be sated.

At the thought of her death, the ache became a throb.

"Well?" she said.

What had she asked him? He replayed their entire conversation in his mind. Oh, yes. Aeron. Reyes's secret enjoyment. He'd had good intentions before Pain took over. "I have hurt him many times. He owed me."

"No." Danika shook her head. "That's not why you did it."

He frowned. No way in hell could she guess the truth. "Then why?"

"You wanted answers. For me. And you thought that was the only way to get them."

All right, maybe she could. Until now, she had only believed the worst about him. Was she...could she possibly be softening toward him?

"Are you and Aeron still friends?" There was a hard edge to her tone this time. So much for softening.

"Yes. We are." He hoped. He loved Aeron. He did. Danika, though...He still wasn't sure how he felt about her or what, exactly, she meant to him. Only that she did mean something she shouldn't, and he couldn't stop the emotions she pulled out of him.

Can't have her.

"Stop," she said stiffly, and turned away from him. She stared up at the ceiling.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Stop what?"

"I don't know. That gleam in your eyes when you look at me, it...distresses me."

"I cannot help myself."

A pause. "There can be nothing between us, Reyes." There at the end, her voice cracked.

"I know."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "What am I doing here?"

"I could not leave you with the Hunters." Truth.

"Maybe you should have."

In that moment, he knew beyond any doubt the Hunters had asked her to act as Bait. His stomach rolled into several hard knots, each beating against the other. He would have to remain alert with her. Always alert. Not reveal anything that could hurt his friends. He would have to watch her, make sure she didn't try and sneak those bastards inside the fortress or tell them where the warriors were headed. And why.

But he couldn't let her go. He couldn't kill her, even though it was the smart thing to do. Even though his friends would demand it if they learned the truth. They suspected, otherwise Sabin wouldn't have entered Reyes's room to question her.

How much danger was Reyes placing them in by letting her live? Did it matter to him? I am such a fool. Perhaps he did love her.

Pain laughed giddily at the thought, for love brought its own brand of torment. Lots and lots of torment. In the heart, the soul. Both causing a physical ache too intense to be relieved.

Reyes scowled. "Do not mention the Hunters to my friends," he commanded tightly.

She laughed. Unlike Pain's, it was not out of giddiness. Strain echoed in the undertones of that forced amusement. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to."

"And why is that?"

"They left."

His confusion morphed into anger, and he jolted to his feet. The stone was cold against his skin. He stalked to his closet. "When?"

"This morning."

"Everyone?"

"Except the one named Torin. Maybe a few others. I can't keep your friends straight."

Pausing in the door frame, Reyes pinched the bridge of his nose. Once he would have been furious at being left behind. Now, what he felt for Danika was even stronger than his desire to find dimOuniak.

"They came for you. When they saw you were still recovering, they told me to deliver a message."

A muscle ticked below each of his eyes as he pivoted and faced her. "Well? Deliver it."

Danika raised her chin. It was an action of defiance and one he'd noted she performed often, ready to take on the world. "The one called Sabin said to tell you to stop acting like a pussy and do your duty. What's in Rome? Someone mentioned a temple."

Reyes ignored her question and glanced down at himself to hide the glint of fury he knew must be shining in his eyes. His weapons were no longer strapped to his ankles and thighs, but he still wore his jeans. They were unfastened. While he liked the thought of Danika undressing him, he did not like the notion that she could have taken his weapons.

He hated that he had slept like the dead. She could have done anything at all - might have done everything - and he wouldn't have known. Frowning, he hastily snapped the jeans and turned back to his closet. He withdrew the velvet-lined cache of guns and knives, saw that was in order, nothing out of place. Good. He wouldn't have to frisk her.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

"I didn't steal from you," she said sharply.

"All right." Not that he believed her. He palmed one of each weapon, then checked the gun's chamber. Loaded. He'd have to be more careful now that Danika was living with him. He couldn't keep his weapons at the ready. His frown deepened as he stored the semiautomatic at his back and faced her.

She was watching him warily, her features as pale as a snow queen's might be. The ache returned to his chest, and he bit the inside of his cheek. The gods should be punished for endowing one person with so much beauty.

"Headed somewhere?" she asked.

"Maybe." His gaze roved over the walls. Two daggers were missing, though she'd taken great pains to cover her tracks by shifting the angle of the weapons that had once surrounded them.

He didn't blame her, wouldn't take them from her. He was surprisingly...aroused by the thought of this woman being armed. Idiot. She probably wanted his blood spilled all over the floor, pooling between the stones.

He shivered at the thought. She would have to stab him to spill his blood, and gods knew how good that would feel. If she wanted you dead, she could have cut off your head last night.

"Why didn't you run from me while you had the chance?" he asked.

She slapped a hand over her forehead and fell against the pillows. "I don't know. I'm a moron."

"Why didn't you hurt me?"

"Again, I don't know. Okay? You're the goddamn enemy. I should be able to cut your throat, no problem. I've trained for it, you know?"

He blinked. "For cutting my throat?"

"Yes. I've taken classes. Not just self-defense, but classes that teach you how to take down your enemy and get away with it." She brushed a piece of lint from her leg. "I will never be helpless again."

I helped destroy her innocence, and I didn't even have to touch her. Shameful.

Reyes leaned his shoulder against the closet's frame. "Do not be too upset with yourself. Perhaps you could not bring yourself to hurt an unconscious man. That is an honorable thing."

"Yes, but you aren't a man."

No, he wasn't. He was a demon, and the reminder stung. Enough to prompt the next words to tumble out of his mouth. "I am awake. Try now."

"Fuck you," she snapped.

"Try."

"Go to hell."

"Try, Danika. Prove to yourself that you can take me down."

Her gaze shot to him, twin laser beams that cut past skin and bone. "So you have a chance to hurt me? No, thank you."

"I will not move. You have my word."

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Do you want me to hurt you?"

She sounded incredulous, yet he realized that's exactly what he'd been pushing her toward. He wanted her to jump from the bed and attack him. He wanted her nails deep in his skin, her teeth deep in his neck again. He wanted pain. From her. Only her.

He wanted pleasure, the only way he could get it. Even though he knew better. Her innocence was already gone. What harm could there be in taking things a little further?

"If you will not attack me, kiss me," he said. He was trembling now, his need too strong to be denied. If he couldn't have the pain he craved, he would take something else. Her taste. He doubted it would sate him, but he didn't care.

She gasped, and he wasn't sure whether it was in horror...or anticipation. Then he saw her nipples harden, and he knew. Anticipation.

His chest felt as if steel bars were pressing down on it. "Kiss me," he said, and the words were so low, so quiet and needy, he could barely hear them.

"Go to hell," she repeated, staring at his lips. This time, however, there was no heat in her voice. Only husky desire.

"If you will not come to me, perhaps I will come to you."

She didn't offer a protest. Goose bumps broke out over her delectable skin, her breaths shallow and the pulse in her neck fluttering wildly. And yet he suspected deep down that if he kissed her, she would hate him. Hate him more than she already did. She didn't want to want him, would be ashamed for giving in to her captor, one of the men responsible for her family's current predicament.

Still, he found himself stepping toward her.

She jerked upright, panic in her eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

To gain his bearings, he paused in the center of the room. His chest had started aching again, Pain soaking it up, savoring every pang. "I have to know."

"What? What do you have to know?"

"What you taste like." Another step.

"What happens when you know?" she rasped.

"I stop wondering. Stop dreaming of you every night, thinking of you every minute of every day." Another step closer. "I think you wonder, too. I think you dream of me and wonder. You hate yourself for it. You hate me for it, but you cannot stop."

She was shaking her head, sunny hair flirting with her shoulders, caressing her elegant neck. He wanted to be the one to touch her, tickle her. He wanted to give her pleasure, even if he could feel none himself.

Finally he admitted the truth. She was different from the other women he'd known. While they had been living beings, they hadn't been fully alive. Danika was. She was the epitome of life and vitality. Perhaps, for one blessed moment, he could soak up that life force and find pleasure in a pleasurable act. Perhaps she could gift him with release - without pain, without suffering and agony. Just once.

"The Darkest Pleasure"

"I don't want you," she choked out.

"Liar." If he didn't do this, he would be haunted by what-ifs for the rest of eternity.

Two more steps and he was at the side of the mattress. She didn't scoot away. She drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her little white teeth nibbled once more on her bottom lip.

"As I said before, you could have left this house, this room, but you didn't."

"A moment of insanity." Her eyes darted over his face. What she searched for, he didn't know.

"Many moments. I slept for hours."

"So? That doesn't mean I want to kiss you. That doesn't mean I want your hands all over me, skin on skin."

Sweet heaven. "What does it mean, then?"

Her lush lips parted and her tongue swiped over them, leaving a sheen of moisture.

"Nothing to say?" Slowly, slowly, he leaned down.

Slowly, slowly she stretched out, lying down, putting more and more distance between their mouths. When her back hit the mattress, she had nowhere else to go. But she didn't turn away, didn't push at him.

Finally he was only a whisper away. He braced his palms at her sides. Strands of her hair caressed his skin like live wires against a switchboard. Gods, the agony. The agony of being so close physically and knowing a kiss was all they could share....

More, his demon begged. Please, more.

Reyes was as hard as a rock, every nerve ending alive. "What does it mean?" he insisted.

"You talk too much." Danika glared up at him, eyes as harsh as her tone. Demanding. Wanting. "Do it. Get it over with. End it."

He wished it were that simple. Do it, never think of it again. Never want it again. Never want her. Perhaps even forget her, so that if Aeron ever claimed her, Reyes would not care. Would not wish for death himself.

"What are you thinking about?" Danika asked, softly now.

Gods, she was lovely. Even piqued, she radiated such beauty it hurt to gaze upon her. Her lashes were long and thick, and there was a single freckle beside her right eyebrow.

"Did you - did you change your mind about the kiss?"

"No." How could he, when he craved it more than a tomorrow? "You may not give me another chance. I want to savor every moment of this."

"If we're going to be fools, we need to get it over with. Savor later." Obviously tired of waiting for him, she latched on to his cheeks and tugged him all the way down. He fell on top of her, and her breath burst out on a gasp. He inhaled deeply, taking every molecule inside his lungs, branding himself with her essence.

"This means nothing," she said.

"Less than nothing," he lied.

"I'll hate myself later."

"I hate myself now." She opened her mouth to reply, but he swooped in and swallowed the words.