The Darkest Torment
Page 85

More than he’d ever dreamed possible.
“Well, you basically have a husband, too,” she pointed out. “You’re bound to Hades.”
Baden shuddered, and she laughed.
So beautiful...so bright. “Katarina,” he said and cupped the back of her neck. His chest constricted. “Tell me you need me.”
Her good humor faded, and she licked her lips. “No way. I won’t lie.”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“Never! I’ve trained dogs that would make you piss your pants in fear. I became their leader, the one they relied on for protection. I’ve spearheaded a business, taking it from a moderate success to an international phenomenon. And just so you know, showing mercy requires more strength than doling out vengeance. One fights an urge, the other indulges it.”
He called himself a thousand kinds of fool for placing her in a defensive position. He eased off—for now—but he needed her admission like he needed the bands: both were crucial to his survival.
“Pandora has Aleksander. I’ll resist the urge to hurt her. I’ll even be gentle with her. Will that make you happy?”
“Yes.” Katarina softened as she toyed with the ends of his hair. “But be careful out there. She’s one wily bitch.”
“You’re beginning to sound as if you like me.”
She pursed her beautiful lips before saying, “I...might.”
A very Katarina answer. Stubborn while remaining mysterious.
“I’ll return to you. Nothing in this world or any other can stop me.” He placed a hard, swift kiss on her lips, then another, and her tongue came out to play with his. If he didn’t flash now, he wouldn’t flash at all, his shaft already throbbing for her.
He gave her a final kiss before leaving—that he could be parted from her was a miracle—and appeared in...what looked to be a horror movie.
Screams echoed from walls splattered with blood. Black goo flowed in rivers across a concrete floor, with organs floating along the surface. The scent of sulfur and brimstone saturated the air, stinging his nostrils. His lungs seized in an effort to expel the tainted particles.
Demons were here.
These particular minions had long, hairy limbs—some had claws, some had multiple horns—their different parts piled throughout the room. Pandora must have been fighting for hours.
There was a human arm amid the debris, a chain still shackled around the biceps.
Either Aleksander was free or Aleksander was dead.
Baden palmed his semiautomatics, the ones with axes protruding from the handles, and rushed down a winding hallway, following the sound of the screams. The lightbulbs had been busted from every source, the surrounding darkness thick, and yet he had no problem cataloging every detail as Destruction focused with laserlike intensity.
Lucifer tries again, the beast snarled.
And he will fail again.
A toddler-size creature with eight legs dropped from the ceiling. It had been waiting for prey. Its mouth stretched wide, creating a cavernous hole big enough to fit a watermelon—or Baden’s head. Its teeth were small but sharp and buzzed like a motorized saw.
Two quick shots, one to its eye and one to its mouth. Bits of enamel flew through the air like shrapnel. As Baden raced past it, he slashed through its head with the axes, ending its fight.
Inside the bedroom, four furry creatures dragged a bloody Pandora to the far wall, the tips of their legs as sharp as daggers. Daggers they shoved into her shoulders, torso and legs. Even under her serpentine wreaths, preventing the metal from touching her skin.
She was pinned in place. Warrior that she was, she continued to struggle using the only weapon she had left—her teeth. She bit at her captors, ripping off an ear then the tip of a chin. The taste of blood frenzied her. She fought for more.
Rage flared. Baden wasn’t fond of Pandora, but no one else would ever be allowed to harm her.
Red eyes lit on him. Smaller creatures clawed free from the fur of the larger ones, cackling with glee. Considered him an easy target, did they?
They would learn.
As Baden strode deeper into the room, he crossed his arms at the elbows and slowly pulled them apart. His fingers remained on the triggers until his body formed a T, ensuring a steady stream of bullets sprayed. The creatures merely absorbed the hits and launched at him.
He twirled the guns so that he gripped the barrels. Slash, slash, slash. The axes removed multiple legs and even more daggered tips.
A sharp pain between his shoulders, followed quickly by another.
He ducked, twirling the guns once again and firing off another round. The creatures flew backward, screeching.
Destruction fought to take over, claws springing from the ends of Baden’s fingers. The marks in his arms began to burn, as if doused with acid. Shadows began to rise.
All threats will die!
“Behind you!” Pandora shouted.
He spun—and took a dagger across the cheek. A hard push came next, flinging him across the room. He slammed into a wall. More disoriented than he should be. Dizzy. A ringing in his ears.
His surroundings blurred. He caught the scent of vanilla. Home?
No, he hadn’t flashed unintentionally. He remained in the room with Pandora, had scented Katarina on his skin.
Poisoned claws, Destruction told him. I’ll burn it out.
A moment later, he felt as if he’d swallowed a branding iron. As he lumbered to his feet, strength restored, another dagger was shoved under both of his bands. The marks cooled, the shadows thinned. The dizziness returned. Suddenly eight distinct voices rushed his mind with desires so sick and twisted he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to cleanse their taint.
That kind of evil...it wasn’t a gift, even if it saved him for a short time. Even if it seemed to protect him. The Sent Ones had spoken true. Evil infected. Evil ruined. Destruction had been able to contain it, but as this proved, even Destruction had his limits.
The beast had gone quiet.
The bands needed contact with his skin to work? Before Katarina, Baden would have wondered why. After last night, he knew the power of a simple touch. Knew the strength of the bond it created. The absolute sense of connection.
He slashed through the offending legs and yanked the daggers out from under the bands—Destruction roared, the other voices diminishing—but another creature lashed out at him...and another...and another. They came from every direction. Anytime he felled one, two more took its place, the goal always to shove more daggers under the bands.