The Darkest Torment. Gena Showalter
the keeper of Misery, and Torin had won the draw. William, who’d returned from the sexual buffet slash murder-fest, had simply said, “Try to stop me. Dare you. Oh, and it goes without saying you’ll owe me another favor.”
They reached the chapel exit. Baden stepped over the first set of guards he’d felled then shouldered his way through the door, sunlight and warm air greeting him.
“Taking the human is kind of a creeper move. You know that, right?” Torin said.
His words rallied Katarina. She increased her struggles, saying, “I can’t leave Alek. Please! Let me go.”
Her fear thrilled Destruction. “Calm yourself, girl. I have no plans to hurt you.”
“Plans can change, yes?”
Oh, yes. “The good news is, we’ll be together for only one night.” No matter how Aleksander felt about her—love or simple lust—he would move heaven and earth to get her back. Today his pride had been pricked. If he allowed another man to steal his woman, he would lose the respect of his men. Or what remained of his men. His authority would be challenged daily.
He would hand over the coin, and that would be that. Baden would be awarded his first point and take the lead in Hades’s game.
Actually, Baden would be awarded his second point. Once he secured Katarina, he would be flashing to the siren. He would remove her tongue, as demanded.
A dagger pierced his conscience. One he couldn’t remove. Aleksander was scum. The siren was not. How could he damage her?
Would her tongue grow back? She was immortal, but like Baden, she was a spirit.
How was he supposed to live with himself after committing such a foul deed?
Easy, Destruction said. You live.
When Katarina beat her fists into his side, Baden added, “Your actions will dictate mine.”
“Panchart!”
The sidewalks were crowded, the streets jammed with cars. Baden’s SUV was double-parked, Cameo waiting behind the wheel.
“Help me!” Katarina shouted, and he wasn’t surprised. To her, there was no better opportunity to escape. “This is an abduction!”
No one paid her any heed, everyone too busy staring at their phones, pretending the rest of the world no longer existed.
“Give her to me,” William said, making grabby hands. “I think I’ve proven I’m better with the opposite sex. And mission planning. And fighting. And basic hair care. Frizz isn’t your friend, Baden.”
Baden tightened his hold on the girl. “My prisoner. Mine.”
“Wow. Selfish much?” William frowned at him. “And after everything I’ve done for you.”
“You mean everything I’ll have to pay you for doing?” The favors to be named later had seemed innocent enough at the time. Slay an enemy for him? Guard his back during battle? Sure. Now the possibilities were endless and the beast...wasn’t pleased.
Kill him. A command, as always, though this one lacked any true heat because of William’s connection to Hades.
Death isn’t the answer to every situation.
William pouted. “You act as if payment makes my good deeds less altruistic.”
“It does!” Baden noticed two stray dogs perched on the curb.
Destruction growled in warning, and the dogs growled right back, as if they heard the sound Baden never released. The two were big, both black and white with patches of missing fur. Mange?
Katarina went as still as a statue. Quietly, calmly, she said, “Don’t you dare hurt those poor animals.”
I will not be ordered, the beast snapped. I will—
Nothing. You will nothing. Baden stepped around the dogs. The pair watched him with intense fixation, ready to pounce, and yet they made no move to jump him.
“Have a heart and call a shelter,” she said.
“Already messaged one.” Torin shoved his phone in his pocket and moved in front of him to open the back passenger door.
Baden threw the girl inside the vehicle, followed her in and caught her by the waist as she lunged for the opposite door. A superfluous action. William entered, blocking her from the other side. Torin claimed the front seat.
“Testosterone sandwich.” William pulled a moist towelette from a dispenser hanging on the back of the driver’s seat and handed it to Baden. “You should clean the condiments off your side of the bun.”
“Curak!” the bride sneered as Baden removed the blood from his face. The Slovak word for prick. “I’ve done nothing to you. Say yes to your heart and let me go.”
Baden fought—yes. An actual grin. “You think I have a heart?”
Even Destruction snorted.
Adorable.
“A human hostage?” Cameo burned rubber, speeding away from the chapel. “Really, boys? Whose bright idea was that?”
Everyone cringed, lances of sadness accompanying Cameo’s words. Baden, William and Torin were used to the sensation and rebounded quickly. Not the human. She paled and trembled, curling into herself.
“Only one of us stopped using our big-boy brain.” Torin hiked his thumb in Baden’s direction. “Our very own beastie boy.”
“What just happened?” Katarina whispered. “I never cry, and yet suddenly I want to bawl.”
Never? “Misery,” he replied, and left it at that.
“But...I’m always miserable.” Bitterness laced her tone. “You...this...this is nothing new.”
What did she mean, always miserable? She’d just married her dream man, had she not?
Cameo took the next corner a little too swiftly, nearly tossing everyone out the window. “Almost there.”
Again, the human curled into herself.
He snapped, “Not another word out of you, Cam.”
“What’s your name?” William asked the human, a clear tactic to distract her.
“Katarina Joelle,” she said, tremors in her voice.
“Katarina Ciernik now,” Baden corrected, unable to hide his disdain.
She bucked up, her temper once again pricked. “You’re right. I am. And a bride’s place is beside her husband.”
“So eager to return to your doom?”
“As if staying with you is any better, vyhon si.”
“Jerk-off? Words hurt, petal. Perhaps you need your mouth washed out with soap. Or the magic elixir. Lucky for you, I happen to have a little magic elixir right...” William unfastened his pants. “Here. A potion so strong it will take down Typhon.”
Typhon, also known as the father of all monsters. Baden grabbed William’s wrist to stop him from showing Katarina the source of the “elixir.”
“So suspicious.” The male tsk-tsked, and after shaking off Baden’s hold, pulled a tiny glass vial from a hidden pocket sewn on the inside of his slacks.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Katarina reared back. “Nie. Nie drugs. Please.”
Finally, the proper human response from her. Baden stuffed the vial of “magic elixir” in his own pocket, casting her a just in case look. “No drugs. If you stay still and quiet.”
* * *
Katarina took stock, calculating the LGB. By remaining still and quiet, as commanded, she would avoid