The Darkest Torment
Page 2

 Gena Showalter

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He jolted, pissed he’d gotten lost in his head.
“Fine. I guess we do this the hard way,” William called. “In three seconds, I kick in your door.”
Calm. No hacking. Baden yanked so hard the handle came off in his hand. Oops. “What do you want?”
Unlike the tornado he was, the black-haired, blue-eyed warrior leaned one shoulder against the frame, as gentle as a summer rain. He looked Baden up and down and grimaced. “Dressing for the job we want, not the job we have, I see.”
Strong male. Too strong. Threat.
As feared, the Get Out of Torture Free card burned to ash. No hacking! But...punching wasn’t hacking. It was pure bliss. Bone against bone. The intoxicating scent of blood would hit his senses, and the musical howl of someone else’s agony would fill his ears.
He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. Who am I?
“Go away,” he repeated.
William scanned the room. “Drinking all by your lonesome? Tsk-tsk. Is your heart missing the demon?”
A few times, he’d thought he...might. The arrival of his new companion had set him straight.
Now Distrust had a new host. A woman. Her name was—his brow furrowed. He couldn’t remember.
Whoever she was, she had supported Galen for centuries, helping him commit the most heinous of deeds. A few months ago, the foolish female had willingly accepted Distrust. In other words, she had willingly accepted unceasing paranoia. Who did that?
William sighed. “No need to respond. I can see the answer on your face. Don’t you know looking back pulls you back? Fine, fine. I’ll help you focus on the future. No need to beg.” He drew back his fist—and punched Baden in the nose. “You’re welcome.”
He recoiled from the impact, his nose snapped out of place. Though Baden produced no blood, his body simply a husk for his spirit, the taste of old pennies coated his tongue. Delicious. Practically dessert.
The beast raged, hungry for more.
Glaring at William, he righted the cartilage in his nose.
“Oh, no. I’ve provoked you. Whatever shall I do?” A grinning William rolled up his shirtsleeves. “I know. How about I give you more.”
Looking for a fight? He’s found it.
The beast...exploded. Every muscle in Baden’s body pumped full of adrenaline while his bones filled with molten lava. Somehow, he doubled in size, the top of his head brushing the ceiling.
“I heard Distrust caused your hair to catch fire,” William said. “Pity he’s not here. Flames would make your coming defeat more interesting.”
Defeat? I’ll introduce him.
With a roar, Baden swung. Contact! Addictive... He swung again and again, his fist a jackhammer, brutal and unrelenting. William took the blows like a champ, miraculously remaining on his feet.
I like this man...kind of. Hurting him hurts me.
A glimmer of rational thought. Baden dropped his arm to his side and gripped his camo pants. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he rasped.
“Why?” William’s teeth were smeared with crimson. “Did you soil your panties while you were giving me those love taps?”
Humor. He wasn’t in the mood. “Walk away. Before you have to crawl.”
Already the beast pawed at Baden’s gray matter, ravenous for round two.
“Don’t be silly.” William waved his fingers. “Hit me again. Only this time, try to do some real damage.”
The warrior didn’t understand...wouldn’t understand until too late. “Go! I’m losing control.”
“Then we’re making progress.” William jabbed Baden’s shoulder. “Hit me.”
“Do you want to die?”
“Hit.” Jab. “Me.” Jab.
The beast snarled, and Baden...
Baden detonated like a bomb, whaling on William, who made no effort to block or dodge the barrage of blows.
“Fight back!” Baden shouted.
“Since you suggested it...” William threw a punch of his own, a crack so powerful Baden reeled backward and slammed into the dresser.
Books and decorations the female residents had given him rattled before toppling to the floor. Everything made of glass shattered at his feet. William stalked forward and, without a pause in his step, bent down to swipe up one of the books. He struck, pummeling Baden’s throat into his spine.
Pain. His body bowed as the warrior slammed the book into his side. Once. Twice. More pain. His kidney was puréed.
Opponent...even stronger than expected...cannot be allowed to live.
Before William could deliver another blow, Baden jerked up a knee. The book flew across the room. He punched William in the jaw. As the warrior stumbled, Baden picked up a shard of glass.
By the time he straightened, William had recovered. That fast. The warrior crushed a vase into the side of his head, new shards raining.
Different voices suddenly penetrated his awareness.
“Is that Baden? Duuude! That can’t be Baden. He’s three times his usual size!”
“He’s going to make a retainer out of Willy’s teeth!”
“I call dibs! On Baden, not the retainer. If my man ever kicks it, I get to hook up with Hulk-smash first!”
In the back of his mind, he knew his friends and their mates had heard the commotion and come running, intending to break up the fight. To help him. The beast didn’t care.
Kill...kill them all...they’re too strong, too much of a risk.
Evil like the beast had no friends, only enemies.
The group is dangerous to the rest of the world, but not to me. Never to me. These people would die for me.
Die...yes, they must die...
William kicked the door closed, blocking the others from Baden’s view. “You focus on me, Red. Understood? I’m the biggest threat, so do us both a favor, take your arthritis medication and hit me.”
Yes. Biggest threat. Hit. Rage gave him added strength as he unleashed a new stream of punches. William blocked the first few, but couldn’t dodge the others. Baden failed to dodge his retaliation.
The brutal fight propelled them around the room, bouncing off walls and furniture as if they were animals in the wild, vying for position of King of the Jungle.
Pick up another piece of glass. Cut through the warrior’s ribs.
Yes. The perfect finish. But as Baden swooped down, William flashed behind him—moving to a new location with only a thought—and punched him. He twisted as he stumbled, capturing the male’s hand when he attempted to deliver another strike.