Pariah #1: New Arrival: Perils of Azure City by Void Read Free Book Online Page B

carefully watching the aria take hold over the heroine. It looked like he had turned it on just in time. She was down to her last man before she would have come after him.
    He tried to steady his nerve. This woman was Pariah - she had a reputation for brutality, and the criminal fraternity spoke of her in hushed tones like she was some kind of bogeyman. After having seen how fast she took apart his people, Tyrone had to say that she more than lived up to the hype. Even now, with the aria pressing upon her, Tyrone considered fleeing the scene. This woman was a weapon; if she managed to shake off the aria she'd resume her rampage and he imagined she'd take a particular interest in him after this.
    Fear beckoned him to run.
    On the other hand, she was the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen. Under the effect of the aria they could go to work on her like they had done with so many women before. Whatever else she was, she was still a woman and still susceptible to the aria along with the arts of submission that Underhaven taught. It was a dangerous game to play - but what a prize.
    Fear fought with perverse ambition, and his decision was made when he realised that it didn't even need to be him who took the risk. He still had one guy left who could play the game in his place.
    'We call it the aria,' Tyrone called out to her, his deep voice carrying over the din, 'It keeps the girls in line. Gets into their heads and opens them up - makes them compliant. It’s got all sorts of subliminal signals designed to get into a woman's mind. You feel that, don't you, Pariah? Just relax and go with it.'
    She tried to focus on his words and found it was a struggle to put anything other than the choir at the centre of her attention. His command to relax was a tempting one to obey. Weary from the fight, her body felt like it yearned for rest. Involuntarily, she slumped her shoulders and let all the tension bleed out of her sleek figure.
    She shook herself again, trying to rouse her resolve.
    I need to finish this before it gets out of hand.
    'Lenny,' Tyrone called out to the guy at Pariah's feet, 'Why don't you help our guest to relax? She looks like she needs persuading.'
    Lenny's smile widened as he grew in confidence; suddenly he was the predator and she was the prey. He rose back to his feet and made to grab her wrists.
    The danger was enough to restore her attention. 'No!' she called out as she slapped an arm away and lashed out with a kick to his chest. It lacked conviction and was a weak effort, serving only to knock him back a few steps. 'I'm... I'm far from finished here.'
    Lenny smiled at her, the dark features of his face looking exotic in the pulsing lights. 'You're right, baby. You are far from finished here... You're just getting started, aren't you? You want to go much further.'
    He slowly approached her. Lenny was one of the group who had been working topless and Pariah was now acutely aware that he was gorgeous. Her eyes wandered down his hard abs and further down to the growing bulge in his pants, noticing what a pleasure he was to look at.
    The aria sighed into her ears, the choir seeming to notice the drift in her attention and calling her to go further.
    How many woman must this man have enslaved? How well must he know how to use his athletic body to bring a woman to ecstasy? She couldn't help but wonder, and her mind imagined how he might expertly play with her body if she would only let him.
    Her heartbeat felt heavy in her chest. She felt tingling across her skin as it seemed to increase in sensitivity, heat starting to gather at her crotch. She bit her lip as she tried to rein in her errant thoughts and fight the effect of the aria.
    This isn't real! You don't feel this way; it’s just a dirty trick!
    She had left Lenny for last out of all her attackers because he posed the least threat. He was beneath her on every level - he was a vile waste of humanity. He repulsed her... and yet the prospect of being