A fallen angel with a secret.

An otherworldly elf with an insatiable hunger she doesn’t understand.

An enchanted gem.

Meet mortal enemies Razr and Jedda…and the priceless diamond that threatens to destroy them both even as it bonds them together with sizzling passion.

Welcome back to the Demonica Underworld, where enemies find love…if they’re strong enough to survive.

He moved toward Jedda, his pulse inexplicably growing faster as he neared her. He’d been in the presence of blindingly gorgeous females with unmatched power in his centuries of life, and none of them had affected him like this. No, this was different, a mix of attraction and anticipation he would almost compare to battle lust.

The thought made him slow his approach, his mind tripping over the implications of that. Was he hoping she was one of the demons responsible for the theft of his property and the deaths of his friends, in which case he’d kill her, or was he hoping she wasn’t involved? And which was worse? Oh, he had no problems with killing demons—it was what he’d been bred for. But it seemed like such a shame to slaughter someone so unique. Or so attractive.

Idiot. You never drooled over demons when you were a full-fledged angel.

No, he hadn’t. There had been a clear separation of class and species back then. But ever since he’d had his wings bound and his powers muted and had been tossed in Sheoul-gra to serve Azagoth, he’d relaxed his standards. Not intentionally, but he had to admit that living life on the other side of the tracks had given him new perspective.

He just wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.

Jedda looked up as he stopped in front of her. Up close, she was even more beautiful, with full, pouty lips made to stir up some wicked male fantasies. Her fine, perfect features made her seem delicate, fragile, even, but something told him she was stronger than she looked. Which made him wonder how that strength would play in bed.

Down, boy. Get what you want and get back to Heaven and females suited to your status. And species. “Hello, Ms. Brighton. I’m Razr.”

Cocking her head slightly, she gave him a long, assessing once-over before saying with just a hint of an English accent, “Razr? That’s not a common human name, is it?”

Either she couldn’t sense his species or she was testing him. Either way, he didn’t see any reason to lie. “It’s my fallen angel name. A take on my given name. Razriel.”

“Ah.” She gave him another long, measuring look, taking in the expensive suit Azagoth had given him for the event, and he wondered what she was thinking. “Until tonight, I’d never met a fallen angel, and now I’ve met two, including you.”

“Tonight? Is the other one here?”

She nodded. “Shrike, the event organizer. He owns this place.”

Well, that was mildly alarming. Fallen angels reveled in power and status, which meant that this shindig had probably been arranged for a purpose. An evil purpose.

Larissa Ione is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. An Air Force veteran, she traded in a career as a meteorologist to pursue her passion of writing. She now spends her days in pajamas with her computer, strong coffee, and supernatural worlds. She believes in celebrating everything, and would never be caught without a bottle of Champagne chilling in the fridge…just in case. She currently lives in Wisconsin with her U.S. Coast Guard husband, her teenage son, a rescue cat named Vegas, and her very own hellhound, a King Shepherd named Hexe.

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