The Darkest Torment. Gena Showalter

him off, as if she expected him to attack.

      “The woman,” she said. Most of her hair had fallen from the topknot, long dark waves now framing her face. The sight of her in such disarray caused his gut to clench. So fragile—the weak died swiftly—but so damned beautiful.

      Destruction snarled at her, but made no new demand to kill her.

      “She is Pandora, the one I told you about,” he said. “She’s my enemy.”

      “That’s who attacked you?” Torin laughed. “Wow. The chick has balls, that’s for sure.”

      Baden frowned at him. “She plans to kill me, to take me out of the game, before coming after the rest of you.”

      William nodded, impressed. “That’s not exactly a bad strategy.”

      “And,” he added, wanting to punch something, “she’s already earned a point.”

      “A point?” Katarina asked. “What game are you playing with her?”

      With a scowl, he focused on her. Any other human would have cowered. This one lifted her chin, a now familiar action, refusing to back down. Brave, but foolish. Merely another weakness.

      “A dark and dangerous one. At the end, the one with the most points lives and the other dies. As you might, very soon. You drugged me,” he snapped.

      She flinched. “If you wanted a passive prisoner, you should have chosen someone else.”

      He’d thrown similar words at Hades.

      I’m nothing like the king. I have limits.

      Easier said...

      “The human drugged you?” Torin barked out another laugh. “Dude. Are you embarrassed? Because I’m embarrassed for you.”

      “Like you have room to talk.” William poked him in the shoulder. “Your girlfriend has spanked you on a number of occasions.”

      “Yeah, but I was a very naughty boy. I started worldwide plagues, and I needed to be taught a lesson.”

      “Plagues?” Katarina gasped out.

      William winked at her. “Don’t worry, petal. If he touches you skin-to-skin, you’ll sicken...but you can cure yourself by sucking on his—”

      Baden punched him in the mouth, shutting him up. “She’s had enough of our world. And I have things to do.” A sense of urgency overtook him. He was still without a point. “I’m taking her back to her groom. Give me your gloves,” he said to Torin, already resenting the barriers that would prevent skin-to-skin contact with Katarina.

      The few times they’d touched, the warmth of her flesh had tantalized him even as it had agonized him.

      His friend understood his affliction better than most and pulled the leather from his arms without protest.

      Baden claimed one then the other, encasing each of his arms before extending a hand to Katarina. “Come.”

      She stood eagerly, curling her fingers around his.

      “So determined to return to hell.” A dark tide of...something rolled through him. Not jealousy. It wasn’t!

      She’s a means to an end, nothing more.

      “I have my reasons,” she said quietly.

      “Of course you do. Money, power and protection.”

      Baden yanked her against him, wrapping his arm around her waist. An unbreakable shackle. She gasped, and he wondered what she’d sound like when she surrendered to her man, incomparable pleasure consuming her.

      Destruction prowled through his mind, more restless with every second that passed. She peered up at him through the thick shield of her lashes...and both he and the beast lost their concentration. The faint scent of vanilla wafted from her. Delicious. Edible.

      Must taste her...

      With so much evil in the world, beautiful things should be cherished.

      “This is way past awkward, right?” William asked, ruining the sensuality of the moment.

      “Definitely,” Torin said as Katarina blushed.

      Cameo did everyone a favor and merely shrugged.

      Baden glared at the lot of them. “Patch the windows and doors and meet me at the fortress in Budapest. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

      Torin got real serious real fast. “Going to visit Aleksander alone? I’m not sure that’s wise, my man. He’ll be armed, and he’ll have more guards, guaranteed.”

      No human would ever be strong enough or fast enough to behead Baden and remove his arms. “I’ll be fine.”

      William clasped his shoulder. “Your reasons for avoiding Budapest are still valid. Don’t forget. And if you decide to move, stay away from Fox. Bad for your health and all that.”

      Why would he go around a fox?

      He secured Katarina even more firmly against him, a pang in his chest, an ache in his groin. He ignored both. Can’t want her. Won’t want her. A seductress who used her man would ultimately betray him.

      “Unless you’re planning to carry me,” she said, “you can let me go. I can walk.”

      “I won’t be carrying you, and we won’t be walking. And you aren’t the one who gives orders. With us, I call the shots. For your safety, not my enjoyment.”

      “The excuse every bossy man uses, I’m sure.” She flattened her palms on his chest and pushed...without results. Glowering, she snapped, “I don’t understand how we can travel without movement.”

      “You don’t need to understand. Close your eyes.”

      A single shake of her head. “Nie.”

      “I said—” Never mind. The stubborn female could deal with the consequences. Reyes and Gideon always vomited after being flashed. Paris passed out. “Keep your eyes open, then.”

      “Reverse psychology? Nice try,” she muttered. “I’ll never purposely make myself vulnerable.”

      And yet she’d done just that by wedding Aleksander. Maybe there was more to her—to her circumstances—than he’d realized, just as she’d claimed. Maybe not. Not that it mattered. Soon she would be out of his life for good.

      A fact that pleased him. Greatly.

      He brought Aleksander to the forefront of his mind. One moment he stood in the penthouse with William, Torin and Cameo, the next he stood in some kind of an underground bunker richly furnished with plush rugs, a mahogany desk, a king-size bed and, off to the side, a private bathroom.

      There was a large metal door next to the bed, but it was bolted from the inside.

      Katarina gasped. “How...we just...we couldn’t have...this isn’t possible.”

      Aleksander sat at a desk, the lone occupant of the room, looking through a stack of photos. When he heard his wife’s voice, he jumped to his feet, his chair skidding behind him. Paling, he swiped up a .44 and aimed at Baden.

      “How did you get in here?” Aleksander demanded.

      No concern for his wife’s safety? Fool.

      Baden released Katarina and stepped in front of her, blocking her from the line of fire. Destruction raged over the action, but directed the heat of the emotion at Aleksander.

      Kill him. Kill him now.

      Soon.

      “Y-yes,” Katarina stuttered. “How did we get here?”

      Baden smiled at Aleksander but spoke to the girl. “I told you, nevesta. I’m immortal.”