Night Pleasures
Dark Hunter Series – Book 3
Sherrilyn Kenyon
AN ANCIENT GREEK LEGEND
Born to extreme wealth, Kyrian of Thrace wielded charm and charisma as powerfully as he wielded his sword. Courageous and bold, he ruled the world around him, and knew nothing save the very passionate side of his nature.
Ardent, wild, and restless, he lived his life recklessly. He knew no danger, no limitations. The world was his oyster and he vowed to feed fully from it.
With the strength of Ares, the body and face of Adonis, and the sensuous gifts of Aphrodite, he was sought by all women who saw him. They wanted him for their own, dreamed of possessing the proud warrior prince whose touch was said to be the closest a woman could ever come to paradise.
But he was not a man whose heart was easily tamed.
He was a man who lived for the moment, lived for his senses, and for the wild fulfillment of all his desires. He loved pleasure, both the giving and the receiving.
The few women who had claimed him for a night of ecstasy lorded it over those who could only dream of touching his exquisite body.
For he was passion. Desire. All things sensual and hot.
A born warrior, he was respected and feared by all who knew of him. And at a time when the Roman Empire was invincible, he, alone, beat the Romans back with a hero's glee, and brought riches and glory to his name and homeland.
For a while, 'twas said he would be ruler of the known world. Until an act of brutal betrayal made him the Ruler of the Night.
Now he walks the shadowy realm between Life and the Underworld. Neither man nor beast, he is something else entirely.
He is Solitude. He is Darkness.
He is a shadow in the night.
A restless, lonely spirit whose destiny is to save the very mortals who despise and fear him. He will never know rest or peace until he can find the one woman who will not betray him. The one pure heart who can see past his dark side and bring him back into the light.
CHAPTER 1
"I say we should stake him to an anthill and throw little pickles at him."
Amanda Devereaux laughed at Selena's suggestion. Leave it to her big sister to make her laugh, no matter the tragedy. Which was exactly what had her sitting at Selena's tarot card and palm-reading table in Jackson Square on a cold Sunday afternoon, instead of lying in bed with the covers pulled over her head.
Still smiling at the thought of a million ants biting Cliff's pasty, dough-boy body, Amanda glanced around at the tourists who were thronging the New Orleans landmark even on this drab November day.
The smell of warm chicory coffee and beignets floated from the Cafe Du Monde across the street, while cars zoomed past a few feet away. The clouds and the sky were an eerie gray that matched Amanda's dour mood.
Most of the Jackson Square peddlers didn't bother setting up booths during the winter season, but her sister Selena considered her psychic stand as much a New Orleans treasure as the St. Louis Cathedral behind them.
And what a treasure Selena's stand was…
The cheap card table was disguised by a thick purple cloth their mother had sewn with "special" incantations known only to their family.
Madam Selene, the Moon Mistress, as Selena was known, sat behind it wearing a flowing green suede skirt, purple knit sweater, and a large black and silver overcoat.
Her sister's strange outfit was quite a contrast to Amanda's faded jeans, pink cable-knit sweater, and tan ski jacket. But then, Amanda had always preferred to dress in an understated way. Unlike her flamboyant family, she hated to stand out. She much preferred to blend into the background.
"I'm through with men," Amanda said. "Cliff was the last stop on the bus to nowhere. I'm tired of wasting my time and energy on them. From now on, I'm going to focus all my attention on accounting."
Selena curled her lips in distaste as she shuffled her tarot cards."Accounting? Are you sure you're not a changeling?"
Amanda gave a halfhearted laugh. "Actually, I'm sure I am a changeling. I just wish my real family would come claim me before it's too late and some of the weirdness rubs off."
Selena laughed at her while she set her tarot cards out in a game of psychic solitaire. "You know what your problem is?"
"I'm too straitlaced and uptight," Amanda said, using the words her mother and eight older sisters most often applied to her.
"Well, yeah, that too. But I'm thinking you need to branch out with your tastes. Stop going after these tie-wearing, ho-hum, cry-to-my-mama-'cause-I-have-no-life geeks. You, my baby sister, need a sex capade with a man who can make your heart race. I'm talking truly reckless and wild."