The Darkest Torment
Page 29

He ground his molars, a white-hot burn searing him. What. The. Hell?
He stomped through the kitchen, searching for a garbage bag. He found a potato sack, stuffed the head inside and flashed to Hades’s throne room.
Destruction went silent, as usual. Pandora was gone. The king stood in a half circle with a group of warriors Baden had never met. They were tatted up, pierced and radiated the kind of acerbity he’d only ever encountered from Hades and William.
They were young, looked to be Baden’s age, a mere four or five millennia.
A spark of memory—of recognition—courtesy of Destruction. Most of the supernatural world believed there were only three realms in hell. There were actually nine. The other realms had always preferred to remain hidden. No longer. They had taken sides in the war.
These four men were kings of their own realms. The tallest was known as the Iron Fist; he was the reason the phrase existed. The others were equally notorious. Merciless killers. Coveted by lovers. Powerful in the most wicked of ways.
“—to win,” Hades was saying, only to stiffen.
They all stiffened. In unison, they turned to face Baden.
Don’t want me here? Too bad. He tossed the sack at Hades’s feet. “I’ve earned my point.”
Hades gazed at the bolder mark on Baden’s arm, satisfaction glinting in his eyes. “Yes, I can see that.”
So. The king had known the presence would attach itself to Baden, had even wanted it to happen. “What is it, exactly?” More important, how did he get rid of it?
“That, dear boy, is my gift to you. A monster other monsters fear. One the human you killed was unable to control or use to his advantage. You, however, will not be so lacking. You’re welcome.”
“I want it.” The Iron Fist stroked the handle of his sword. “Give it to me.”
“You think to order my assassin?” Hades asked with quiet venom. “To take from him?”
The threat in his voice was unmistakable, and Baden blinked in amazement. Hades was protective of him, even though he himself had threatened Baden’s life?
A development worth exploring.
“I order and take at will.” The warrior kept his hand on the sword. “Have destroyed entire kingdoms for a single trinket I later deemed unworthy of my greatness.”
“Which is why I like you,” Hades replied. “Don’t make me dislike you.”
The other kings bristled. A fight brewed.
“If I’m no longer needed...” Baden had no desire to deal with Destruction, who would insist on participating in the battle between kings, if only to show himself strong. He longed to return to Katarina. They had unfinished business.
Hades smiled at him, colder than ice. “I will have another mission for you. Soon. Until then, stay alive.”
8
“They called me a bitch. I called them an ambulance.”
—Cameo, keeper of Misery
KATARINA LAY ON the floor of the unfamiliar bedroom, strange men and women surrounding her, talking about her as if she wasn’t there.
“Baden told us to protect...her?”
“Maybe he needed protection from her. Let’s lock her in the dungeon.”
“That’s your answer to everything, Maddox.”
“Because our enemies are wily.”
“The girl’s not a danger to anyone, least of all mad, bad Baden.”
“Speaking of, where is he? Why’d he leave? And why’d he call for Ashlyn?”
“I can answer your last question right now. He called for me because of my ability. Which means I can answer the other questions as soon as you leave the room...”
“Not happening, sweetheart. This girl is an unknown and—”
“I know, I know. Unknowns are our foes. Been there. But Baden isn’t an unknown. You trust him. He would never bring a vicious woman into our home.”
Katarina tuned out the woman’s sweet voice, the man’s reply, and the myriad of responses that followed. If the group decided to lock her in the dungeon...whatever. What did she care about another location change?
Grief enveloped her, choked her.
Someone picked her up and carried her to the bed. The covers were lightly tucked around her, and one of the women—a plump beauty with light brown hair and matching eyes—stayed when the others exited, sitting beside her and tracing soft fingertips over her brow.
“My name is Ashlyn. I’m not sure how much you know about the men who live here, but I’m married to one. I have a very special ability that allows me to hear every conversation that’s taken place in a room as long as my husband isn’t with me. As soon as he left us, I heard about your dogs. I’m so sorry for your loss, Katarina.”
Shut up, she wanted to shout. Maybe the girl had a special ability, like Baden, or maybe there were bugs in the room, and she’d eavesdropped. Either way, the dogs weren’t up for discussion.
“You’re safe here. You have my word.”
Katarina closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. Well, in and out of sleep, always fitful. She had no idea when Ashlyn took off. The other people visited throughout the day, checking on her, and someone even brought a tray of food. She had no desire to eat. The only thing she wanted to do was continue sleeping. And cry, the way she used to as a child. But as always, no tears were forthcoming, which meant she experienced no cathartic release.
Eventually the needs of her bladder plagued her. She rose to unsteady legs and shut herself in the spacious en suite. Mosaic tile decorated the floor, the pattern floral but dizzying. The walls were cream-colored stucco, the countertops gold-veined marble, and the shower encased by stone and glass. Behind two white columns was a sunken tub.
Overall, as luxurious as Alek’s. She laughed without humor. Monsters and their money.
When she exited, Baden was seated at the edge of the bed. He’d recently showered, his damp hair darker than usual. He stood when he spotted her and held out his hand. “Come. I’ll give you a tour of the fortress.”
She ignored him, crawled under the covers and fell back to sleep.
The next time she awoke, she was alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her misery...her memories.
Faith, Hope and Love adored her. When they were excited, they had hopped around her feet like bunnies. They had panted and smiled every time she’d walked through the door. She remembered playing fetch and going on walks, and she began to shake. She remembered slobbery kisses and cuddles on the couch, and she dry heaved.