The Darkest Torment. Gena Showalter

consumed him; the rivers of black the wreaths had etched into his skin now chewed through his veins and burrowed deep into his bones, forcing them to expand. All the while, Destruction slammed against his chest—a chest that expanded, as well. Unnatural strength flooded him, dark and intoxicating, more than he’d ever experienced, as if the beast was taking over his body.

      The beast was taking over his body.

      Pandora looked him over and frowned. “How did you—never mind. I can guess. The wreaths have done weird things to me, too. But your reaction is too little too late, I’m afraid.” She lifted the chain saw overhead. “This is goodbye, Baden. I’d say it’s been nice knowing you, but I never lie.”

      He worked his jaw, finding his voice. “What of Hades’s warning?”

      “If killing you means dying myself, so be it.” She stepped toward him, and he sprang into motion at last, kicking out his leg to knock her ankles together. She crashed to her ass, losing her breath; she managed to retain her hold on the chain saw, even as the blade cut through the wood floor, shavings flying in every direction.

      He latched onto her foot and twisted, hard, breaking the bones in her ankle and hobbling her. At least for a moment.

      She yelped, and then she swung the chain saw at him. Target: his neck. He ducked and, when the opportunity presented itself, booted the back of her hand, causing her grip on the weapon to finally loosen.

      The chain saw dropped, the motor dying.

      He stood while she crouched, her hair standing on end as if she’d just jammed her finger into a socket. Fangs extended past her bottom lip, little growls rising from her. The chompers were new; they were bigger than a vampire’s but smaller than a bear shifter’s. She had lines of black running from the bands, just like him, but hers were intermixed with the many butterflies tattooed on her forearms.

      When Baden and the others were first possessed, a butterfly tattoo appeared on each of their bodies. Same basic shape, but in different locations and colors. Pandora’s tattoos were self-inflicted, each representing one of the demons. Violence, Death, Pain, Doubt, Wrath, Lies, Secrets, Defeat, Promiscuity, Disaster, Disease, Jealousy, False Hope and Distrust. There had been other demons, but they were given to the immortals trapped in Tartarus. A prison for the worst of the worst criminals.

      Pandora had no problem with those prisoners, only the people who’d stolen her box.

      The butterflies were an obvious kill list.

      She’s a threat.

      Yes. Oh, yes. “Where’s the human girl?” he demanded.

      “She’s sleeping soundly at the elevators. Why? Were you hoping she’d come to your rescue?”

      “You’re the only one in danger today.” Hades wouldn’t punish him for defending himself. How could he? “You made a grave mistake, coming after me.” The beast already envisioned how best to end her. Using the chain saw to hack off her limbs...then her head. “You should have focused your efforts on earning your first point.”

      “How adorable.” She circled him, her chilling grin widening. “You don’t know. I’ve already earned my first point.”

      His hands curled into fists as he turned with her. She was the head, and he was the tail? Unacceptable!

      “Enjoy being in the lead while you can, skýla.” Bitch. “It won’t last long. You’re weak.” He pricked at her pride, determined to send her into a rage, to make her vulnerable. “You’ve always been weak. I remember how Haidee killed me, yes...but I also remember how easy it was to steal dimOuniak from you. I remember how Maddox swiped up a sword upon his possession and stabbed into your vulnerable belly six different times. You were utterly defenseless, unable to stop him. You couldn’t even—”

      Cursing him, she swung at his head. When he blocked her fist with the palm of his hand, she swung at him with her other arm, going for his throat. He leaned back, avoiding impact, while catching her other wrist. A single twist spun her around, allowing him to pin her arm behind her back.

      “See? Weak,” he whispered into her ear.

      “Bastard!”

      Destruction laughed as Baden wrapped an arm around her neck to draw her against him, the pressure he applied enough to choke anyone else.

      “Asshole,” she managed to rasp.

      A sharp pain exploded in his thigh before his entire leg went limp. He released her, stumbling back. The hilt of what had to be a poison-tipped dagger protruded just above his knee.

      “I’m going to rip out your—”

      A pained moan drifted from the hallway, snagging his attention, silencing him.

      Katarina was waking.

      “Dibs on the first kill,” Torin said with relish. A gun cocked.

      His friends had returned.

      Pandora stiffened. Baden yanked out the dagger, and for the second time since his return from the dead, he bled. But just as before the blood was thick and black. He could only guess at the reason: the beast, who was more alive to him with every day that passed.

      With Destruction shouting obscenities, Baden tossed the weapon. Pandora dodged left, but not swiftly enough. The blade grazed her shoulder. She sprinted toward the window, jumping...diving. Glass shattered, warm air blustering inside the living room.

      He raced over, seeing she’d left smears of black behind. As she soared down, down, she used a retractable wire to slow her momentum. Swinging forward, she crashed through a window in the middle of the building.

      He wanted to give chase, to attack, but the urge to safeguard Katarina—the key to his point—proved stronger.

      William had her draped over his shoulder. “Where do you want her?”

      Torin and Cameo flanked his sides, weapons drawn and at the ready. Baden wanted to make their lives easier, and yet he kept adding complications.

      “The couch,” he said. The scene of the crime.

      “There’s no one to kill?” Torin pouted. “I always miss the fun.”

      William tossed Katarina onto the couch cushions. When she finished bouncing, he noticed the large knot on her forehead. One he’d sported on several occasions. Pandora had head-butted her.

      Scowling, he shoved William in the shoulder. “Be more careful with her. She could have a concussion.”

      “That’s not exactly a me problem, now, is it?”

      Cameo gave her semiautomatic a little toss, caught it by the barrel and pistol-whipped the shit out of William. As he cursed and rubbed the fresh wound, she said, “Consider it a you problem from now on. Any injury she sustains, I’ll make sure you sustain as well.”

      Baden and Destruction shuddered in unison.

      Note to self: Earplugs are my best friend. He had no idea how Cameo lived with her demon. Anytime she experienced a moment of happiness, the kind that would change her life for the better, the demon erased the memory, ensuring she remained forever surrounded by darkness.

      Without light—hope—there was no desire to live. A fact he’d suffered firsthand.

      “You’re worse than my children,” William muttered. “You know that, right, Cam?”

      The male had four children. Three sons and a daughter. The daughter was murdered months ago, and the sons were now in the midst of a vicious war with her killer’s family. A war the killer’s family would not win. William had fathered the Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

      Cameo—thankfully, blessedly—shrugged.

      Torin holstered his gun and held up a shredded box. “Monopoly, anyone? Got the M&M’s edition. The stray dogs outside the hotel used it as a chew toy, but I think I managed to salvage most of the pieces.”