The Darkest Touch. Gena Showalter

your breath, as it will soon be your last.” Her hand tightened on the shiv. What was done was done and could never be undone. Never, never, never. “I made the mistake of pardoning someone who wronged me once before.” The man she’d loved and had planned to marry. “I’ve had to live with the consequences ever since.”

      Although...she should probably be grateful to Hades. Before she’d met him, she’d had very little control of her abilities. With a single burst of power, she’d slaughtered more than half of her people—in less than a second.

      The rest of her people had sought revenge.

      Hades swooped to the rescue, carrying her to the underworld, his home. He’d taught her everything she needed to know to not only survive but thrive. He’d even praised her when she’d leveled his palace and he’d had to build a new one. That’s my good, fearsome girl.

      Keeley rammed the shiv so deep she hit bone.

      “I know you crave vengeance,” Torin said, his voice a life raft of calm in the sea of her mounting anger, “but even if we get out of here, you won’t be able to claim it. You can’t touch me or you will sicken.”

      He sounded remorseful about that, too.

      A lie, surely.

      “Killing you isn’t the only way to achieve vengeance, warrior.”

      A pause crackling with tension. “What are you saying?”

      “I told you I had heard of you, yes?” Galen, the keeper of Jealousy and False Hope, was one of the greatest enemies of the Lords of the Underworld...and he was a prisoner here. Had been for months. They’d spent the first few weeks of their association exchanging information and would have continued to do so if he hadn’t deteriorated from illness and hunger and gone radio silent.

      Which was unfortunate. Knowledge was more precious than gold, and she always craved more. The very reason I once set up a network of spies stretching from one corner of the world to another. She knew things even the Titans and Greeks didn’t know. She just had to remember them.

      “You love your friends,” she said. “Provide for them. Protect them.”

      “What does that have to do with anything?”

      As a former royal soldier for the Greeks, who made Roman gladiators look like marshmallows, he had to know where she was going with this. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one, but...I can kill them.”

      The bars of his cage rattled.

      Direct hit.

      “You won’t go near them,” he bellowed. Either he’d returned to full strength, or his mounting rage now drove him. “They’ve done nothing to you.”

      “Like Mari had done nothing to you?”

      “You weren’t there. You don’t know how things went down. You’re blaming me for an accident.”

      “We both know you blame yourself. Why shouldn’t I?”

      A moment passed, and when next he spoke, he was cool and collected once more, his tone actually languid. “Don’t you go getting all psychoanalytical on me, princess. I blame myself, yes. You can blame me, too. But take it out on me, not anyone else.”

      Though he couldn’t see her, she raised her chin. “I am a queen. Call me ‘princess’ again and I will castrate you before I kill you.” For many years, castration had been her preferred method of punishment. The secret was in the turn of the wrist.

      He muttered, “You should be grateful princess is all I’m calling you.”

      “And you should know I will do whatever I deem fitting to whomever I deem deserving.”

      “Your attitude makes me think you’re still unclear about the huge mistake you’re making.” He’d moved from calm to charm, but not even that dulled the sharp-edged steel accompanying his every word. “You may or may not be the Red Queen immortals fear, but I am a warrior with whom one does not screw. On the field of battle, I enjoy the feel of a blade slicing through my opponent. I like the scent of blood. It invigorates me. I even think screams of pain make a beautiful soundtrack while I’m working out.”

      In their world, strength mattered. And the way he’d just described himself...

       Sexy.

      No, not sexy!

      “Yawn,” was all she allowed herself to say.

      “Yawn?” The bars rattled much harder. “Did you just yawn me?”

      “Just so you know, I’ve eaten warriors like you for breakfast.”

      He didn’t miss a beat. “Well, did you spit or swallow? Never mind. Don’t answer. Your sexual kinkiness has no bearing on this situation. I’d appreciate it if you’d focus.”

      Heat flamed her cheeks. “I wasn’t talking about that!”

      “Hey, I’m not here to judge. I’m here because I’d hoped to—” He stopped, a palpable sense of amazement thickening air that never quite lost the stench of unwashed bodies and filth.

      What was going on? “You hoped to...what? Help Mari? Well, too late. You didn’t. She’s gone, and—” Keeley’s chin quaked so violently she had trouble getting out her next words. “And someone has to pay. Several someones.”

      “Trust me. I’m—” click... “—paying.” The groan of rusty hinges accompanied the last word. Then...pounding footsteps sounded?

      She frowned, confused. Had he just—

      Escaped!

      Keeley jumped to her feet, the shiv falling from her hand. Torin stood in front of her cell, a backpack hanging from his shoulder. Oh...my. He was everything a girl could want—and more. Mercenary-tall and cold-blooded-killer honed. My favorite. My weakness.

      She’d gone centuries without seeing another person...without touching one. Why did Torin have to be so magnificent? His hair was snow-white, but his brows and lashes were night-dark, and the contrast was a sensuous delight. But, oh, his eyes...they were his most startling feature. They were the rarest of emeralds, intertwined with different shades of green, all without a single flaw.

      Nerve endings she’d thought long deadened stirred to life and tingled. Moisture flooded her mouth. The blood in her veins turned molten.

       Close the distance...touch him...

      Definitely not...well, maybe. There was a rip in the collar of his shirt, causing the material to gape over a massive, muscular chest completely healed from his impromptu self-surgery. Taste...

      “How did you escape an inescapable prison?” she demanded. I’m deprived. That’s all. An aardvark would have had this effect on her.

      “A secret I forgot,” he replied.

      “That’s not an answer.”

      “Wasn’t meant to be.” His gaze raked over her, the intensity of it staggering—aggression in its purest form. His pupils dilated, black quickly overshadowing green. The most exquisite eclipse. One caused by...lust? Did this bad boy find her attractive despite her oddities?

      The blood in her veins utterly boiled with desire.

       What about his crime?

      The boil tapered to a simmer. “You had best run while you can, warrior.”

      “Or what, princess?”

      “I’ll hurt you worse.”

      He flicked his tongue over an incisor. Struggling for the tranquility he’d seemed to display so easily before? “I will warn you once. Only once. Never again threaten my friends. You do and I’ll end you. I won’t want