The Darkest Torment

A beast? Destruction? “You hurt the men in the chapel so easily. I’m guessing violence isn’t new to your wheelhouse, whether you are what you claim or not.”

“No, it’s not new to me. But sometimes it’s a special treat.”

Cold fingers of dread walked the length of her spine. “The more evil you do, the more evil you are,” she said softly. For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined she was safe in Peter’s arms. A girl with a bright future. Happy. Hopeful. “What does your girlfriend...wife?...think of your proclivities?”

“I have no woman I call my own. There’s no one strong enough to handle me.”

Without strength, we have nothing. We are nothing.

“Strength is your only requirement in a mate?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “No. I want no mate. I’m too dangerous.”

He looked away from her, focusing beyond her. The color drained from his face, and flickers of red lit his eyes. No, no. His eyes were bloodshot, that was all. The horror of the situation—and his declarations—had affected her perception of him.

Sweat rolled from his brow as a tremor rocked him. Was he having a panic attack? Or was he fighting whatever he considered the beast?

She contemplated comforting him, but she knew better than to touch him.

“Sing,” he croaked. “Sing now.”

She wanted to snap at him for issuing such a harsh command, but she obeyed him instead. She’d often serenaded her dogs whenever they’d been frenzied. More often than not, they’d calmed. Within a few minutes, the red began to ebb from Baden’s eyes. He released a heavy sigh, the color returning to his cheeks.

He rubbed his temple, as if to ward off an ache. Or a voice he couldn’t silence.

Were the drugs finally kicking in? She licked her lips, suddenly nervous. If he suspected...

Keep him distracted.

“Well. It’s my turn to share.” Before he could order her to be quiet, she said, “I grew up with an American father. He was black. My mother was Slovak and as white as snow. Most people accepted our family, but there were some who didn’t. I got in trouble on more than one occasion for fighting the didn’ts. Knock-down-drag-outs at school. Daddy used to say we can’t fight fire with fire. We have to use water.”

“I had...no mother.” Baden blinked rapidly as his head lolled to the side. His eyes closed slowly, and stayed closed, his body slumping over the side of the couch.

What had he meant, he’d had no mother?

Did it matter? There was no better time to act. Stay calm. Stay focused. Katarina ran to the front door, searching for more weapons along the way. No knives, no guns. Nothing. Fine. She would go with what she had. Her hands shook as she flipped the lock. Hinges squeaked as the entrance swung open.

Ding. Elevator doors slid apart. Out strode the black-haired woman who’d smoked a cigar on her balcony. She had a big black bag slung over her shoulder—and headed straight for Katarina.

Humans weren’t a waste of space, after all. She’d come to help.

“Thank you!” Katarina stopped in front of her. “We need to notify—”

“Where’s Baden?” the woman asked, a raspy quality to her voice. Like Baden, she had a slight Greek accent.

The accent...the bands...

Unease overshadowed Katarina’s sense of elation. “In there. Asleep. I drugged him.”

The woman smiled with relish. “Well, well. Aren’t you full of surprises?”

Katarina latched onto her wrist to pull her back to the elevators. “Come on. We must notify the authorities. They’ll handle—”

“No. They won’t. But I will.” With that, the woman slammed her forehead into Katarina’s.

She careened backward, pain and vertigo rushing her. Her last thought before darkness swallowed her whole: Only I could escape a murderer and go from bad to worse.

6

“Steal the box, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.”

—Baden, companion to Destruction

BADEN FOUGHT THROUGH the oppressive taint of lethargy, Destruction roaring obscenities in the back of his mind. Katarina had drugged him, obviously, and escaped.

As weak as she was physically, she was strong mentally. She’d proved to be smart, resourceful and sneaky. He’d underestimated her. A mistake he wouldn’t make again.

He almost...admired her right now. Almost.

Enemies must be dealt with swiftly and harshly.

Destruction wasn’t so easily impressed.

Only a few minutes ago, the beast had raged inside Baden’s head—the discussion about parents had made him think of his mother, Jezebel. A witch who’d ruled a section of the underworld before Hades. The bitch who’d sold Destruction to one of the (former) kings—the male who’d locked him in the dungeon all those centuries ago.

Remembering the calm the siren had caused with her voice, Baden had command Katarina sing to him. She wasn’t a siren, or even part siren, and yet she’d caused a stronger reaction. The beast hadn’t just calmed, he’d purred, utterly content.

She had power over him. Another reason she had to die.

Baden’s ears twitched as the front door opened. Booted footsteps thumped against the floor. Too heavy to belong to Katarina.

A tension-laced pause ended with a soft chuckle he recognized. Pandora had found him.

She must have passed Katarina at the bank of elevators. Had she harmed the human to get to him?

Baden raged, and yet the beast quieted.

Pandora tsk-tsked. “Apparently females are your Kryptonite, my friend. This is the second time one has led to your murder.”

Threat? Destruction asked. He wasn’t sure?

Baden fought the lethargy with all his strength, his nerve endings beginning to tingle as they came back to life.

“Do you remember the feel of the blade slicing through your neck?” she asked, maintaining a conversational tone. “No worries if you don’t. I’m about to remind you.”

Something heavy whacked the coffee table. He managed to crack open his eyelids as a zipper opened.

Threat! Destruction snarled. Must eliminate.

“When I’m finished with you,” Pandora said, digging inside an oversize duffel bag, “I’m going to kill your friends. And I’m going to make it hurt.”

If she targeted Baden, not fine, but whatever. Just more of the same. But to turn her murderous intentions to his brothers and sister? Too far!

The beast snarled louder.

She continued blithely. “You and the others...you didn’t just take the box from me, didn’t just end my life. You ruined my only chance to—” She pressed her lips together, and her nostrils flared.

Her only chance to what? In all their years together, she’d never revealed the secrets of her past.

She slapped different metal parts together, creating a battery-powered chain saw. She smiled as she pushed a button, the motor revving and blades spinning.

She had come to play.

Rage 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.”

More stray dogs?

Katarina moaned before bolting upright. Panting, she gave the room a panicked scan. Her gaze met Baden’s, and she scrambled to the edge of the couch, holding out her hand to ward 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.”

7

“Dude. You should not have put a ring on it.”

—Bianka the Terrible, Harpy from Clan Skyhawk

KATARINA’S MIND THREATENED to shut down. Too much to process! She couldn’t have...how had...no, no, there were zero ways what she thought had happened could have actually happened. But truth was truth, and like any apex predator, it could defend itself. She’d traveled from one location to another in only a blink. Without taking a step. Without being carried. Without flying inside a plane or driving in a car. Just boom, the scenery had altered.

Baden had been honest about his origins, hadn’t he? He really was immortal. And if he was immortal, he was also formerly demon-possessed—was now playing host to some kind of beast. A beast with an insatiable craving for violence.

Her hand fluttered over her throat. He said he worked for Hades...who was the ruler of the underworld, according to mythology.

Hello, vertigo. We meet again.

“The coin,” Baden barked at Alek.

Alek gave a violent shake of his head, the barrel of his gun wavering. “I don’t know where it is, someone must have stolen it.”

“You lie. Unfortunately for you, I tolerate only one liar in my life.” Baden pulled a dagger from the sheath in his belt. How many other weapons were hidden on his body? “And Gideon is way better at it than you.”

“Go to hell.” Alek squeezed the trigger. Pop! Pop! Pop!

As Baden jerked from impact, Katarina covered her mouth to silence a scream. Anyone else would have fallen, but he didn’t flinch or even stumble.

What he did? Stalk across the room and turn the gun while it remained in Alek’s grip. He pressed his finger over Alek’s and forced her miserable excuse of a husband to shoot himself in the shoulder.

Alek—a mere human—toppled into his chair, blood spurting from his wound.

Men banged at the door, but it was locked and barred from the inside. No one could enter. No one could help him.

His own safety measures would aid his downfall.

“Last chance,” Baden said, as calm as if they were discussing today’s lunch menu.

Almost hysterically, she thought: Death with a side of pain.

“I can’t give it to you.” Alek panted for breath. “I just can’t.”

“You can. You choose not to, and you’ll forever regret it.” He dropped the gun on the desk and very slowly, very deliberately moved in front of Alek. He still held the dagger. “I am not a liar. I told you I’d take something else you value. Today, you lose a hand.”