Temptation (Chronicles of the Fallen, #3)
Brenda Huber
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this book to my readers. Thank you for finding me. Thank you for staying with me. Thank you for becoming part of my world.
Acknowledgements
As always, I would like to send out special thanks to my agent Jessica Alvarez of BookEnds, LLC. Your valuable input and steadfast support are priceless. I would also like to thank my editor Holly Atkinson. There are no words to properly express my undying gratitude for all you’ve done to make this series shine. You’ve made me a better writer. And also, heartfelt thanks go out to all the other authors of Holly’s Hellions who have not only provided me with insightful nuggets of advice and wisdom, but also helped me feel like part of a community. It truly does takes a village…
The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.
—Oscar Wilde
“Feel free to yield all you want, but I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’.”
—Gideon, Demon of Temptation
Prologue
Gideon tore through the jungle. The sharp edges of broad leaves slashed at him, ripping at his face and neck. Gnarled, hanging vines caught at his pumping arms. Tangled roots and slick, moss covered rocks made every racing step treacherous.
Sweat drenched his body. His clothing clung in the oppressive humidity. He’d sprinted, more or less, the last eight miles, and his breathing was ragged. His heart pounded inside his chest like angry war drums. Not from his exertions, but from overwhelming excitement.
The Mayan ruins of Calakmul, the Kingdom of the Snake, flashed in the distance, bobbing in and out of his line of sight as he darted, jumped and weaved his way through the overgrown jungle. Indescribable power radiated from the Amulet of the Gods, drawing him inexorably onward, urging him faster and faster.
Gideon’s stamina was nearly limitless. But the heat, the nightmares that had plagued him with increasing frequency and the extensive injuries he’d sustained less than an hour ago in a fierce battle with a nest of Animagi Demons were beginning to sap his strength. It’d been too long since he’d fed, and his wounds weren’t healing anymore—not like they should be. Even now, blood seeped from the ragged hole in his shoulder. Blisters from a lucky plasma ball seared his side, raw and oozing. Dizziness washed through him in waves, but still he ran. Hope, a ruthless and unforgiving taskmaster, rode him hard.
A fresh surge of foreign energy ripped through the air without warning, something familiar. Something evil. A whisper of awareness shivered along his nerves.
Another demon was near.
Determined to get to that amulet first, Gideon burst from the choking vegetation near the base of crumbling steps, so close to his goal he could taste it. The power of the amulet hissed through the air, sizzling energy that pulsed with a life all its own. He’d sensed it the moment he’d shimmered into the jungle several miles away, knew it would have been the same for whoever else it was that was there with him. The closer he got, the more powerful the draw.
The amulet was his last hope, the only possible loophole he’d been able to come up with in the two hundred years since Lucifer had compounded his curse, twisting an already impossible situation into something heinously cruel. He’d already been stripped of his angelic gifts of precognition during the Great Fall by the very angel he’d once called brother. But then Lucifer had seen fit to punish him twice over for disobedience, cursing him to never again have physical contact with another—any other—while in human form. In demonic form…well, that was a whole other messed up situation. Lucifer’s curse had been the last straw, the thing that had driven him to join Niklas, Xander, Mikhail and Sebastian in rebellion. It’s so close!
A plasma ball whizzed past his head, exploding in a whoosh of flames and shattered rock, obliterating a column of ancient inscriptions. Crouching, whirling about, he ignited his own plasma ball and scanned the lush greenery around him. His breath wheezed in and out. Sweat dripped in his eyes, plastering his hair to his cheeks and neck. He did a quick visual search of the foliage at the base of the ruins, but he couldn’t locate his attacker.
Gideon leaped back into the edge of the vegetation. He glanced up the steep stone steps. Steps stained by the blood of countless sacrifices. Soon more blood would join with the rest—his blood—a gruesome offering required to obtain the amulet he wanted almost as much as he wanted redemption.
But that’s not strictly true, now is it? his conscience argued.
A flicker of guilt speared him. If he were being truly honest, he’d admit he wanted that amulet even more than the forgiveness he’d worked so hard to earn.