The Darkest Torment
Page 57

Far from satisfied, he flashed just outside the safe house, where Keeley and Lucien had flashed the others. The temporary home was a shack on the outside, but was a tricked-out arsenal/makeshift hospital on the inside. He released Katarina in a hurry, as if she were toxic waste—because she was—and placed the dog at her feet.
Baden expected her to grab hold of his arm and cling, to sob and make excuses for her behavior.
You misunderstood...
I was so scared, so confused, but now I’m back on track.
I would never betray you. I crave you too intensely.
She merely flipped her hair over her shoulder and sneered at him. “You don’t need Distrust to be a suspicious, unreasonable kretén, eh?”
“How am I unreasonable, zvodkyne?” Seductress. Tell me. Please. “Your own words condemn you.”
“You’re right. Now go away.” She dismissed him with a regal wave. “You only hear, but you do not listen.”
“What does that even mean?” he demanded.
The hinges on the front door creaked; Sienna stepped onto the porch, ending the conversation. One of her enormous black wings was bent at an odd angle, and she had stitches on her forehead.
A serene expression overtook her features as she approached. Her demon, Wrath, sensed the strife between them and ate it up, a fact that irritated both Baden and the beast.
“Thought you might need these,” she said, holding out two collars and leashes.
“Thank you. You are kind and understanding.” The dogs bucked as Katarina anchored the straps of leather in place. But when she began to hum, they settled, suddenly docile.
Baden scowled. She’d once subdued him just as easily. Never again!
“You’re, uh, welcome?” Sienna said and returned to the house with only a single backward glance.
When Katarina attempted to follow the girl, Baden latched onto her wrist. “The attack we just faced was a hired hit. I’m a wanted man.” The anger in his voice would have caused anyone else to run, but not the human. Never the human. Foolish girl. Foolish Baden. Why did he admire her so? “Hades has two sons. William, whom you’ve met, and Lucifer, who is ultimate darkness with no hint of light. He’ll steal from anyone, kill anyone and destroy anything. He wants me dead. He wants all my allies dead. You need my protection, and you’d do well to remember that.”
“Lucifer...as in the devil? The original fallen angel? The one who bargains and cajoles and tricks, damning souls?”
“The very one.”
“Well, I have nothing to fear. I’m not your ally. Screw your protection, and screw you.” Chin lifting another notch, she wrenched free of his clasp and marched into the house, the dogs trotting behind her.
Baden trailed after her, too, catching up in a living room furnished like any other. A couch, two chairs and a coffee table. He gritted out, “Does your leg need further tending?”
“No. There’s a small cut, nothing more.”
He wanted to see it, to assure himself it wasn’t deeper than she realized, but he bit his tongue. Her hurts were not his problem. Not anymore. “If you value your life, you’ll stay here and you’ll stay quiet.” He would deal with her treachery after he’d seen to his friends. Men and women who would never betray him.
“I can help—” she began.
“But you won’t. I don’t trust you.”
“Fine. We’ll stay away from the action.” She plopped onto the couch and patted the spots beside her. The dogs jumped up and sat. “Not because you ordered it, but because my sweethearts need time to calm.”
Caters to the dogs, but not to me.
Baden stomped through a doorway to the right, entering a small greenhouse where Keeley lay in a pile of dirt. The enclosure was warm and moist, the air scented with roses. Her flesh was in the process of sewing itself back together.
Torin crouched beside her, drifting his fingers through her pink hair. He was chalk white, his features ravaged. “I love you, princess. I need you to heal. Just like before. Just like every time before. You can do it. You can do anything.”
Behind the pair, Paris and Amun shoveled more dirt into a wheelbarrow. To dump on Keeley?
“How can I help?” Baden’s mouth dried. What his friends felt for their women...it was foreign to him, and yet an undeniable spark of longing lit him up inside. To have someone of his own...
Torin’s emerald gaze flipped up, glassed by unshed tears. “You can’t. I’ve got her, and she’s got her dirt.”
As a Curator—once a spirit of light, tasked with the safekeeping of the planet—she was bound to the earth and its seasons.
Baden scoured a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I know you think we’re better together, but I should have left the fortress weeks ago. My connection to Hades put everyone in the middle of his war with Lucifer. William warned me, told me I would bring nothing but harm.”
“William isn’t the be all and end all,” Paris said. “No matter what happens, you belong with us. And we were on Hades’s side, anyway. Lucy would have come for us sooner or later.”
“Now, at least, we know beyond a doubt we’re on the right side,” Torin said.
Yes. While Baden had already lost his grudge against Hades—for the most part—he’d still resented some of the man’s darker tasks. No longer. Now he would do everything with a sense of urgency and eagerness.
Lucifer would pay for what had happened this day. He would pay greatly. His utmost weakness was the Morning Star, the main reason he wanted to possess it. The death of the Lords was just a bonus.
For Baden, finding it had never been more important.
“Shout for me if anything changes.” He strode through another door, entering the medical ward, where the others had congregated.
Ashlyn reclined on a gurney, a gash on her cheek. Most likely it would scar. The twins were clutched to her chest, both covered with bumps and bruises.
Gwen was conscious, now sucking on Sabin’s carotid as if it was a juice box. Harpies, like vampires, needed blood to heal; Sabin’s must have been potent, because it had already worked magic. His wife’s cheeks were bright with color.
Scarlet, the keeper of Nightmares and Gideon’s pregnant wife, had her left leg propped on a mound of pillows. She had a compound fracture, her tibia peeking through her skin, blood seeping from the wound.