The Darkest Touch
Page 12

 Gena Showalter

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“No one taught you the value of a good toothbrush, I see.” She waved her hand under her nose.
“Don’t worry. I’ll clean my teeth...with your bones.” He swung at her—Unspoken Ones so enjoyed tenderizing their meals.
She sent a bolt of power slamming into his chest, causing his entire body to seize. She was about to send another bolt when something hard slammed into her side, knocking her out of the way. That something maintained a tight, intractable hold, traveling with her, twisting midair, taking the brunt of impact when they landed.
She caught her breath and regained her equilibrium—only to realize a panting, scowling Torin loomed above her, a muscle flexing in his jaw.
Fool! “Why did you do that?” she demanded.
“What kind of idiot female just stands there while a beast triple her size prepares to knock her brains right out of her ear hole?”
He is...helping me?
But why?
Thoughts...derailing...
Wet hair clung to Torin’s face, droplets of water trickling down, down, washing away streaks of dirt. Spiky lashes framed emerald eyes glittering with a sensual blend of menace and lust.
He was raw sexuality, his masculinity proving savage enough to batter through every feminine defense she’d ever erected, drawing a hot, carnal response from her. Tremors, breathlessness.
Unending hunger.
Knowing the Unspoken One was out for the count, at least for a few minutes more, she reached up to trace the outline of Torin’s beautiful lips. He stayed put, perhaps trapped by the same desperate need she felt—definitely daring her to do it, to take what she wanted—but at the last second, he reeled backward, as if she’d planned to strike him rather than caress him.
“Don’t,” he snapped. “As long as there are clothes between us, you’ll be fine, but skin-to-skin will destroy even you.”
Anger. With him—and herself. How could she have forgotten his taint?
Relief. Weakness of any kind was not allowed.
Anger again. He was Mari’s killer! The enemy. Desire for Torin could not be stronger than desire for revenge.
Her bones began to vibrate, the ground to shake. The wind whipped into a dangerous frenzy. Thunder boomed as the sky darkened to an oppressive black.
Torin searched for the source of the tumult, not realizing it came from her.
The Unspoken One recovered sooner than expected and flashed to them, swatting the distracted Torin out of the way and grabbing Keeley by the neck. She didn’t struggle as she was lifted off her feet. There was no need.
“Not so haughty now, are you, female?”
“Someone has a toilet-paper word of the day, doesn’t he?”
A sharp lance of pain in her neck. He’d just broken her spine. Oh, well.
“I want you to know the great pleasure I will derive from squeezing you so forcefully your head pops off.” His voice was like razors, slicing at her, his grin slow and triumphant...and all the more evil for it. “I’ll use the wound like a straw and drain you dry.”
Creative. “It’ll take...more than you...to end me.” The vibrations around them intensified, soon spilling into him.
Confusion furrowed his brow just before the ground opened up, threatening to swallow him whole. He released her in a bid to jump to safety, though she didn’t fall so much as an inch. No, she remained in the air, the wind coming harder, lashing the ends of her hair and the hem of her ruined gown.
The night-dark clouds undulated, screaming as they travailed...and finally gave birth to a violent storm. Daggers of ice pelted the land...the Unspoken One. Slash. Slash. Slash. The cuts went deeper than those Torin had given him, his skin tearing, blood leaking.
Grinning, she crooked her finger at him. The Unspoken One tried to plant his heels and remain in place, but he wasn’t strong enough to oppose the lasso of her power, and all too soon he stood only a few inches away from her, at the edge of the rupture. He’d hoped to harm her. Had hoped to harm Torin.
Now he died.
Torin swooped in low, running his dagger across the Unspoken One’s ankles. With a bellow, the beast dropped to his knees. But just before he landed, he twisted and once again swiped a beefy arm at the warrior. He missed. Torin rolled to a crouch several yards away, and even though the ice pelted him, too, causing the same slashing damage, he kept his narrowed gaze on the Unspoken One, preparing to launch another attack.
Can’t let him. My emotions...almost too strong to control...
If she wasn’t careful, Torin would be killed in a moment of chaos.
Where was the justice in that?
Deep breath in...out...but “almost” had already crashed and burned. She’d felt too much for too long, without any kind of outlet. She attempted to flash Torin out of range. Maybe she succeeded. Maybe she didn’t. The rage kicked down the walls of her defenses and burst from her; she lost track of her surroundings. Her spine realigned, healed and arched, causing her body to bow.
Howls of agony erupted—and they did not come from her.
The riiiip of skin.
The crrrack of breaking bones.
The pop of a body bursting. The whoosh of rushing blood. The splatter. The downpour of shredded organs.
Warm liquid splashed over her. Shrapnel beat against her.
But as quickly as the storm had come, it quieted. Keeley floated to the ground. She wiped her eyes to clear her field of vision. The Unspoken One had been reduced to debris—and none of it was identifiable. He would not be able to recover from this. He would never regenerate. This was it for him, the end.