The Darkest Torment
Page 87

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“I mixed a vial of poison, called it Kindness...and killed people with Kindness.”
—Josephina, Queen of the Fae
KATARINA PRAISED BISCUIT and Gravy liberally. They excelled at every game she initiated. Flirt pole. Fetch and catch. Hide-and-seek. Tug-of-war. But...did they excel too much?
Are they hellhounds or aren’t they?
At every turn, the two maintained a high level of excitement and determination to win. They remained focused and never entered any of the emotional danger zones: anger, nervousness or fear.
Galen and Fox avoided her bedroom and the backyard, which was a good thing—for them. The more time that passed without Baden, the more Katarina’s stomach churned. The more her stomach churned, the snappier she became. The snappier she became, the more aggrieved the dogs became.
She wanted her man home safe. She even wanted the beast home safe. The beast—who was a manifestation of Hades’s tortured childhood. She’d never thought she would sympathize with the dark king who pulled Baden’s strings. Or that she would fall prey to the old he’s just misunderstood, I should run to him not from him...should give him a hug.
I want to hug him!
But. Despite her sympathy, she would never allow him to harm her pups.
“Are you hellhounds?” she finally asked as she stored the tug-of-war sleeve in a box at the foot of the bed. “You can tell me the truth.”
—Play! Play!—
“Did you bite me? And if so, why didn’t you feed on me?” Because they loved her? Love could overcome a multitude of compulsions. “Am I going to morph into one of your kind?”
—Toy!—
Biscuit scratched at the box. When that failed, he nosed the lid.
“Sit,” she commanded, and both pups sat after only a slight hesitation.
Either they were too innocent to understand what she’d asked, or they didn’t want to admit the truth.
“Where are your parents? Were they...killed? Are you on your own?”
Both ducked their heads, radiating sadness.
“You’re not alone,” she told them. “You’ve got me. And I’ll love you even if you infected me, all right?”
Baden appeared in a flash of light, startling her. She pressed her lips together in a guilty line. The dogs didn’t act surprised, at least, as if they’d sensed him; they simply watched him. But the real wonder? They remained in place, waiting for her command to rise. Such fast learners!
As she took in Baden’s poor condition, a cry of dismay left her. He looked as if he’d been pitted against other junkyard dogs. His face, neck and arms were cut and bruised and caked with something thick and black that reeked of sulfur. His clothes were torn, and his limbs trembling.
She rushed to his side and wrapped an arm around his waist, offering support and comfort. “What happened?” She led him to the bed, determination giving her enough strength to hold him up when his knees buckled—the same strength Destruction had considered killing her for having.
She eased Baden onto the mattress and sat beside him, unwilling to stray from his side.
“Ambush,” he said with a grimace.
“And Alek?”
“Captured by Lucifer’s minions. I don’t know whether he’s dead or alive.”
“What does Lucifer want with him?”
“The coin, I’m sure.”
“But why? He already has a kingdom in the underworld.”
“What’s better than one kingdom? Two.” Baden scrubbed a hand down his face. “He must be stopped, whatever the cost.”
No. Not “whatever the cost.” Baden’s soul was more important than victory.
—You need help?—
“Yes,” she replied without thought. “Go get Galen. Do you remember him? The blond man with mini-wings.” A simple wash wasn’t going to help Baden. Not this time. She’d tended wounds of her own and wounds on her animals, but had no experience tending to an immortal. “Please.”
The dogs bounded off, and she knew they’d understood her.
“They can follow such a specific order?” Baden asked with a frown.
“Yeah, I’m that good.” And, uh, they might be hellhounds, with powers beyond my understanding.
He frowned, staring at the door. Trying to unravel the puzzle? “Call them back,” he finally said. “I don’t want Galen—”
“Let me stop you right there. I don’t actually care what you want. Your well-being is more important than your reason for avoiding the man.” Whatever that reason happened to be. “He can help you. I can’t.”
“He’s an asshole,” Baden muttered.
“You should adore him. You are an asshole.”
As he glared at her, his pupils expanded, black with pinpricks of red. Destruction was making his presence known, and she couldn’t have been happier, her relief palpable. If he had the strength to argue with her, to properly display his emotions, he had the strength to recover from his wounds.
And he had to recover.
To lighten the mood, she reached out to caress his cheek, just under the worst of the gashes. “Poor Baduction. You hurt your moneymaker.”
His glare softened at the edges. “Are you saying you like the look of me?”
She chuckled as if he’d just told a joke. “I’m saying I have an Outlander fantasy you have yet to fulfill.”
The glare returned full force, and he actually snarled at her. “I learned the reference. I will only ever pretend to be me, and you’ll thank me for it.”
Yes. She probably would. “I don’t think you have to pretend to be you, pekný.”
“You know what I meant,” he grumbled.
So adorable. She liked this man. Liked liked. A lot. He was stubborn and grumpy and he had those murderous tendencies thanks to Destruction, but he could make her laugh when no one else was able.
Wow. He makes me laugh? Way to reach for the stars.
Well...he could turn her on with a single look. He challenged her and delighted her. And maybe she had a wild side she’d never before acknowledged or maybe she was just getting used to his world, because she liked that he would go to any means necessary to protect what he loved.
He doesn’t love me.
But...I might be falling for him.
Tristo hrmenych! That wasn’t a good thing. He would never age, but she would—yes? Despite the possible hellhound thing. Also, all the women his friends had picked were hardcore warriors, no matter how delicate they appeared. Katarina had sensed Ashlyn would morph into a snarling ogre if ever her children were threatened.