The Darkest Torment
Page 83

“I tease you. There’s a difference. One is cruel, one is sweet. Sweet makes me happy.”
Slowly the tension drained from him. “I think I like when you’re happy.”
“I’m glad. I like when you are happy, too.”
“Only because you are frightened of me.” He said the words as if they were an undisputed fact. “You are wise, at least. Sometimes.”
“I’m not frightened of you,” she replied, tracing her finger around one of his nipples, then the other. “Why should I be? We’re friends.”
His brow furrowed with confusion. “I have no friends. Friends are a hindrance.”
“Friends are a blessing. They guard your back and—”
“I trust no one at my back.” He barked the words, his anger pricked.
Still, she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. No risk, no reward. “They stroke you when you need to be stroked.”
Now he pursed his lips, unable to issue a rebuke without encouraging her to stop.
“They make you smile when you’re sad,” she added. “They fill you with joy when sorrow tries to overtake you. They shine light in your darkness.”
“I can see in the dark,” he grumbled.
The anger had left him, at least, the danger passed. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Your brother hasn’t guarded your back, and he hasn’t been a blessing to you. He hurt you.”
“Yes. There’s no denying that. But I never said he was my friend.”
A moment passed in silence as he pondered her statement. Then he said, “He won’t hurt you again. He’s now locked away, unable to buy drugs or even contact another human.”
Destruction might as well have placed paddles over her heart. “He is?”
“We made sure of it. For you.”
For me. “Thank you.” Oh, she knew Dominik had to want to stay clean for this to succeed when he was freed, but this...this was a gift. “All right, big guy. We’re going to do a trust exercise.” Her gift to Baden and Destruction.
His frown returned in a hurry. “I trust—”
“No one. I know. But we’re still going to do the exercise.”
“Woman, you cannot force me—”
She placed her finger over his mouth, silencing him. His eyes widened, as if he couldn’t believe her daring. “Your commentary isn’t appreciated. Be quiet.”
He nipped at her fingertip. “You are brave. And foolish.”
Not so brave—and foolish—as determined to win this creature over. “Roll over.”
“No.” His teeth flashed in a scowl. “If you attempt to harm me, I will have to kill you.”
Not a threat, but a promise. LGB? Pretty high. “Roll over,” she repeated anyway, giving him a little push. “I’m going to stroke your back.”
His muscles hardened into rocks. “You’re stronger than before.” He latched onto her wrist to bring her hand to his nose. As he sniffed, rage turned his pupils to smoke, dark tendrils wafting over his irises. “You carry the faint scent of hellhounds, and yet the race has been extinct for centuries. How is this possible?”
Hellhounds? Her? Impossible. Unless...
An idea took root, and she struggled to catch her breath. “I know so little about your immortal world, but I love dogs. Tell me about these hellhounds.”
His distaste for the subject was keen. “Some secured the underworld while others hunted and captured spirits who managed to escape. They communicated telepathically—what one knew, they all knew—and they could flash between realms.”
Her idea grew branches, horror sprouting at the ends like ripening fruit. “Were the people they bit...infected?” Her mouth dried. “Like, say, a werewolf.”
“In a way. But there were very few bite-survivors. Once a hellhound tasted someone’s blood, the need to feed on that specific person eclipsed everything else.”
What a relief! Her dogs couldn’t be hellhounds. If they’d actually bitten her, they would have devoured her. “How do you know this?”
“The male who imprisoned me controlled a pack. They...played with my limbs.”
Her stomach roiled. She ached for the boy he’d been. “I’m so sorry.” The words weren’t good enough. No words were good enough.
His grip tightened enough to make her cry out in pain.
He gentled his hold, saying, “As children, immortals cannot regenerate. But I’m more than immortal. And I never forget a wrong done to me. If hellhounds managed to survive, they must be eradicated.”
Despite her lingering horror about his past, protective instincts flared. To destroy an entire race for the crimes of a few? No!
—You need help?—
No, no. She projected her thoughts and prayed the animals heard. They were enclosed in the bathroom, but they were totally able to claw their way free. I’m fine. Stay where you are.
If she was wrong, if the race had changed, had learned to control the bloodlust and the pups were indeed hellhounds...if Destruction turned his wrath on them...
There would be hell to pay.
“Baden never mentioned a hellhound scent,” she said.
“His senses aren’t as highly developed.”
Keeping her expression neutral proved to be a challenge, but she did it. “Well. As you said, hellhounds are extinct. Centuries have passed. Your nose could be playing tricks on you. Or maybe hellhounds once lived here. The place is old. Now. Stop stalling and—roll—over.”
He obeyed at last, and she knew it wasn’t because he’d suddenly decided to trust her. He probably intended to test her. A test she would pass with an A++, gold star, or whatever grading system he used.
She trailed her fingertips down the ridges of his spine, over the knots between his shoulders and down, down to the tight globes of his ass, continuing until he melted into the mattress. Soon, he began to purr.
“You’re so hard and soft at the same time,” she said.
“You like this.” A demand, not a question.
“I do.” She increased the pressure of her touch, massaging his muscles. His purrs soon became...snores? He’d fallen asleep? Really? A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Clearly, this beauty had just bagged and tagged two beasts.
* * *
As morning sunlight poured into the bedroom, Baden tugged on a pair of battle fatigues. He was a bit unbalanced. Destruction was calm, almost content—would he next break out in song like a Disney princess?