Page 123 of Paramour of Sin

Zebulon paused and gritted his teeth. Magic rose up around him, powerful and sharp edged. I felt him working on something I couldn’t see—something presumably in Guinevere’s body. A rush of energy spiked, then waned, and Zebulon opened his eyes again, breathing hard.

He continued talking as if he hadn’t even stopped. “Ragus sent the distress call to me just as I felt Guinevere’s agony.” Zebulon grimaced, and his hand moved further down Guinevere’s arm, his eyes distant. “Fortunately, I was in the realm already with Ashmedai.”

“Not in Hell?”

“No, he met me in Miami. On the yacht.” He didn’t elaborate, just closed his eyes as he hummed something under his breath.

“What are you doing?”

A vein pulsed in Zebulon’s forehead. He had his fingertips pressed to the soft skin above Guinevere’s inner elbow. “Mending. Replenishing. Guiding.”

“Can I help?” I asked.

He dipped his chin once. “Touch me.”

I didn’t hesitate, laying my palm on his shoulder.

“Bare skin,” he said through his teeth.

I ripped through the buttons of his black dress shirt and touched his chest, right over his heart. The organ beat fast against my palm, his energy immediately engulfing me as he leaned on me for strength.

I sucked in a breath, shocked to feel how depleted his reserves were, and realized just how much he’d given to Guinevere to keep her alive.

My other palm went to her breastbone, sending a jolt of electricity through the air as the three of us connected to each other.

Heat pooled in the bedroom, as an electric current thrived to life between us. Zebulon was the source, the conduit of power, redirecting energy into Guinevere and forcing her to heal.

She almost died, I realized, feeling how close to death she’d come. For Zebulon to bethisdepleted…fuck.

A new presence swarmed around us as Prince Ashmedai arrived on a swoosh of royal robes, his violet eyes immediately falling to Guinevere.

“That’s an impressive amount of energy, Zebulon,” Ashmedai murmured, reaching forward to add his own flavor to the mix. But his wasn’t helping so much astesting.

At least at first.

Then he sent an explosion of strength into the mix to bolster Zebulon’s reserves.

Shit. I sucked in a breath, the sudden shockwave sending me to the bed beside Guinevere’s prone form. I barely maintained my connection, my fingertips brushing Zebulon’s chest as my other palm flattened against Guinevere’s breastbone.

Prince Ashmedai hummed, his fingers dancing over our connection. “I hope this power of yours continues to grow,” he mused. “We’re going to need it in the coming Earth decades, for I do believe a war is coming, and it’s not being inspired by Hell.”

Zebulon blew out a breath and opened his eyes, his irises flaring with an intoxicating mix of power and pain. “War?” he repeated, his tone gruff.

“Something with the balance,” Prince Ashmedai said, his tone more thoughtful now. “I intend to interrogate Creek when he wakes. You and Ragus certainly did a number on him, but you didn’t behead him, for which I’m thankful. He has answers that I seek.”

He fell into a contemplative silence, his gaze raking over Guinevere, searching for something.

“This is fascinating, Zebulon,” he added after a silent moment. “Your triad bolsters you, and you them. Which has given me an idea.”

“What sort of idea?” my lord asked, his voice growing in strength.

Prince Ashmedai merely smiled, then he moved to stand behind Zebulon, his palm going to the Demonic Lord’s shoulder as he sent anothershockwave through our connection.

I shivered as the intense surge moved through me, my body automatically curling into Guinevere. She gasped, too, then her body stilled.

Too still.

But Ifelther heart beating steadily.