The Darkest Touch. Gena Showalter

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Название The Darkest Touch
Автор произведения Gena Showalter
Жанр Зарубежная фантастика
Серия MIRA
Издательство Зарубежная фантастика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474007382



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      He smiled at her, but it only made the breathlessness worse. “Do whatever you’ve got to do, Keys. I’m ready.”

      “Fine. I will.” This was it, then. The first strike in their war. A bit of vengeance for Mari. One item checked off Keeley’s to-do list.

      So why did remorse hold her immobile? “Nothing will stop me,” she said.

      “Didn’t think it would.”

      I can do this. She rolled her shoulders, shook out her hands. All right, okay. I won’t make him suffer. For you, Mari, I’ll make it quick and painless and simply finish him here.

      She stretched out her arms, lightning shooting from her palms. Torin stumbled back, but rather than frying to a crisp as she’d planned, he seemed to absorb the heat and energy.

      His mouth opened and closed for several seconds before he snapped, “I can’t believe you actually did it.”

      “I told you I would.” Confused, Keeley shot out another bolt of lightning. Again, he stumbled back without frying. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

      He gripped the collar of his shirt and yanked the material over his head to look himself over. The lightning should have left gaping holes of black, but there weren’t even streaks of pink to indicate he’d been struck. But there were muscles. Lots and lots of muscles. A lump filled her throat. She’d thought him beautiful before...but this was beautiful. No one had a physique like his. Cut with rope after rope of strength, skin pale and flawless, a black butterfly tattooed on his stomach.

      “You’re staring,” he said.

      And probably drooling. “So?”

      “So it’s time for me to share with the rest of the class.” He peeled back one of his gloves, revealing thick scars running up one side of his arm and down the other. Scars with flecks of yellow-orange peppered throughout. “This is why you were unable to kill me.”

      The lump dissolved and she inhaled sharply. He knew she was a Curator, and he’d taken precautions against her.

      And she’d thought to make his death quick and painless. A mistake she wouldn’t repeat.

      “You think you’re so smart,” she spat. “Well, I’ve got news for—”

      “Shut it, Keys,” he snapped, speaking over her.

      Baffled by him, she actually pressed her lips together. Very few people had ever spoken to her like that, too afraid of her reaction. So domineering...

       Won’t shiver. Would rather die.

      “You once gave me a choice.” His eyes became twin infernos, burning everything they touched. And they seemed to touch her everywhere. “Now I’m giving you one. Walk away from me and your vengeance—or suffer.”

       CHAPTER FIVE

      TURNED ON—CHECK.

       Yeah, I put the “fun” in dysfunctional.

      Torin should probably call a doctor. Not even Cialis was supposed to cause such an intense reaction.

       What has one hundred and thirty-two teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

      For a moment, he found amusement in the fact that his penis had decided to act like a third wheel on a date and pop in to complicate things, butt in to private conversations and demand attention at the most inappropriate times. But the amusement didn’t last long.

      Keeley had tried to murder him with her earth-shattering power—twice!—and she totally would have succeeded if he hadn’t circumvented her with the brimstone. So the fact that he had an erection the size of a battering ram, all because she’d peered at him with those icy eyes, daring him to take a swing at her, was messed up. Even for him.

      But the kicker? He was trying to Jedi mind-trick her into choosing option B. To suffer. Because it was the only way he’d get to spend more time with her.

      I’m worse than a monster.

      No, no. He had this all wrong. His reasons for wanting to spend more time with her were completely altruistic. If she was occupied with Torin, she wouldn’t switch her focus to his friends.

       And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you work any situation to your favor.

      The blue-tinted beauty raised her chin, the perfect study of feminine stubbornness. “I choose...suffer,” she said, moving into a battle stance. “I may be weakened by what you’ve done, but I’m still the most powerful being you’ve ever encountered. I’ve killed kings, toppled kingdoms.”

       Shouldn’t grin.

      The demon banged against his skull, impatient to get away from the girl.

       Not happening.

      “You’re more than weakened, princess. You’re severely limited.” The brimstone actually stopped her from harming him, because her power was an extension of her. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a moment and reconsider this? Maybe make a pros-and-cons list?”

      “Is this to be a debate or a physical battle? I’ve considered.”

      Well, all right, then. “Don’t forget. If you touch my skin, you’ll sicken. And if, miracles of miracles, you survive the raging fever and bloody cough, you’ll become a carrier and infect others.”

      “Talk, talk, talk, blah, blah, blah,” she said—and struck. She must have flashed a branch into her hand because one second her fist swung at his face, the next the jagged branch slammed into his jaw.

      Blood in his mouth. A lance of pain. He stumbled, straightened and wiped his already-swelling lips. He should have been annoyed. Or angry. Yeah, anger was probably the proper response. Instead, he was—shocker!—invigorated. He’d handicapped the chick, but she’d found a way to strike anyway.

      Maybe aliens had taken over his brain.

      “If you want a chance to win this,” he said, “you’ll have to hit me harder.”

      “Oh. Okay.” Whack!

      Stars behind his eyes, and yet he kind of wanted to laugh. She’d merely given him what he’d asked for, and he couldn’t fault her for it.

      Definitely aliens.

      When she swung a third time, he was ready, catching the stick and jerking it from her grip. She yelped, startled by the disarming. Hadn’t expected him to be a worthy opponent, had she? He released the pimp-slapper, but it vanished before it hit the ground.

      He didn’t have to wonder what had happened. She’d flashed it somewhere else.

      “You can’t defeat me,” she said, circling him. A predator with a meal in sight.

      Adrenaline spilled into his blood, riding the waves in his veins. “I can...but I’d be willing to accept your surrender.”

      A shrill cry suddenly echoed. He and Keeley looked up in unison as a sphinx flew in circles overhead, dodging clouds with expert precision. The bare-chested creature had the haunches of a lion, the wings of a great bird, and the torso of a woman. A fresh-off-the-pole, looking-to-give-you-the-lap-dance-of-a-lifetime woman.

      Come on Little T. You gotta be interested in getting a little of that.

      Nada.

      The sphinx bared a mouthful of fangs, spread her claws wide and angled face-first, swooping down, clearly intending to grab a little takeout. Keeley waved a hand through the air and both of the creature’s wings crumpled like a tin can under a stomping foot. Down the sphinx spiraled, crashing into the tops of trees a good distance