The Darkest Lie

In a remote fortress in Budapest, six immortal

warriors–each more dangerously seductive than

the last–are bound by an ancient curse none has

been able to break. When a powerful enemy returns,

they will travel the world in search of a sacred relic

of the gods–one that threatens to destroy them all.

Gena Showalter’s

paranormal series

LORDS OF THE UNDERWORLD

continues with

THE DARKEST LIE

Also available in this series

THE DARKEST NIGHT

THE DARKEST KISS

THE DARKEST PLEASURE

THE DARKEST WHISPER

DARK BEGINNINGS

THE DARKEST PASSION

The

Darkest

Lie

Gena Showalter

www.mirabooks.co.uk (http://www.mirabooks.co.uk)

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Gena Showalter has been praised for her “sizzling page-turners” and “utterly spellbinding stories”. She is the author of more than seventeen novels and anthologies, including breathtaking paranormal and contemporary romances, cutting-edge young adult novels and stunning urban fantasy. Readers can’t get enough of her trademark wit and singular imagination.

To learn more about Gena and her books, please visit www.genashowalter.com and www.genashowalter blogspot.com.

In honour of the keeper of Lies, I thought I’d write

this dedication in Gideon Speak.

To someone who didn’t (and doesn’t) help me

every step of the way: Margo Lipschultz

To the five men I absolutely despise:

Jill Monroe, Kresley Cole and PC Cast

To my hated wife: Max

And firstly, to Gideon herself. To my complete

delight, you made my job so easy, the words flowing

like smooth, rich wine. You never once proved

stubborn, drove me to the edge of insanity or put

yourself in impossible positions that I then had to

scramble to find ways out of. Thank you.

Prologue

GIDEON STARED down at the woman sleeping atop the bed of cloud-soft cerulean cotton.

His wife.

Maybe.

Inky hair tangled around an innately sensual face, long lashes casting shadows over graceful cheeks. One of her hands rested at her temple, her fingers curling inward, her azure-painted nails gleaming in the golden glow of the lamp. Her nose was perfect in shape and size, her chin stubborn, and her lips the plumpest—and reddest—he’d ever seen.

And her body…gods. Perhaps those made-for-sin curves were the reason she bore the name Scarlet. Her wickedly rounded breasts…the slender dip of her waist…the feminine flare of her hips…the lean length of her legs…every part of her was meant to lure, to ensnare.

Without a doubt, she was the most hauntingly lovely female he’d ever beheld. A genuine sleeping beauty. Only, this beauty would come up swinging if he tried to kiss her awake.

The thought had him grinning in pure male satisfaction.

One look, and a man knew she was passion and fire underneath that snow-white skin. What most men didn’t know, however, was that, like Gideon, she was possessed by a demon.

Difference is, I earned mine. She didn’t.

For-freaking-ever ago, he’d helped his friends steal and open Pandora’s box, unleashing the evil inside. Yeah, yeah. A mistake. Hardly worth a second’s thought, if you asked him, but the gods hadn’t, so, as punishment, each warrior responsible was cursed to host a demon inside his own body. Baddies like Death, Disaster, Violence, Disease, yada yada.

There’d been more demons than warriors, though, so the remaining fiends had been placed inside the immortal prisoners of Tartarus. Where Scarlet had resided her entire life.