The Darkest Torment (Lords of the Underworld 12)

They were being devoured from the inside out.

Sitting back and watching wasn’t in Baden’s nature. He was cut up and seeping his own black-as-night substance—were there specks of red mixed in?—but he dove into the heart of the battle, slashing, slashing, slashing. Pandora took a position at his six, stopping any ambush from behind.

We are...working together?

When the last creature was slain, the shadows returned to him and Pandora, sinking back into their proper places.

She hunched over. Panting, she said, “I could have...won without you.”

“Yes. I’m sure. You could have won a second death.”

She pursed her lips. “We need to retrieve the human.”

“We?”

“A mistake,” she rushed out. “I meant me. I’ll retrieve Alek on my own.”

“You won’t. You had your night,” he said. “Now he’s mine.”

“Bastard! You had more than a night and got less out of him. I think...” She gasped, closed her eyes to hide the disgust suddenly growing there. “I think we need to work together.”

He didn’t trust her. Even without Distrust coloring his thoughts, he would never trust her. Not fully. But...she was right. “Now isn’t the time to go after him. There’s no telling what kind of combat situation we’d face.”

“So? He’s weakened.”

“We’re weakened. Most likely the ones who took him are not.” The truth was the truth, no matter how much he hated it. “I’m not giving him another opportunity to walk away. Or even to crawl. Next time, he loses.” Everything.

She thought for a moment, reluctantly nodded. “We could use the wife to draw him—”

“No!” A roar. A threat, if she was smart enough to hear it. “You won’t turn your sights to her or our dogs. And you won’t use that title in reference to her, either.”

“Title? You mean wife?”

She’s mine! “Swear it or our truce is null and void.”

She arched a dark brow. “We have a truce?”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

She snorted. “Fine. Whatever. I swear it.” She straightened, scrubbing a shaky hand down her face. “I never thought you’d commit to anyone, much less a human.”

He could say the same. Humans were feeble, easily killed. And now, with as many enemies as Baden had racked up, he might as well paint a target on Katarina’s back. If he wed her—bonded his life to hers as Puck had bonded his life to Gilly—she could become immortal, but would she also become a slave to Hades?

He couldn’t risk it. There had to be another way.

One task at a time. First up: healing so that he was strong enough to protect her. “Have you learned to use a cell phone?”

“Am I a better warrior than you?” she replied drily.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“It’s a yes!”

He rattled off his number and stood to unsteady legs. “If Lucifer sends another ambush, let me know.”

“Planning to save the day?” she sneered.

“You mean again? Yes.”

She spun, kicking him in the stomach, but there was no actual anger to the strike and he simply lost his breath for a moment. “Bastard.”

“Bitch.”

“Pussy.”

“Failure.”

They peered at each other in silence, and he would have sworn the corners of her lips twitched, as if she was fighting a grin. “I’ll text if I’m attacked,” she said. “Or when I’m fully healed, whichever comes first.”

“Until next time...” he said, and flashed away without problem.

23

“I mixed a vial of poison, called it Kindness...and killed people with Kindness.”

—Josephina, Queen of the Fae

KATARINA PRAISED BISCUIT and Gravy liberally. They excelled at every game she initiated. Flirt pole. Fetch and catch. Hide-and-seek. Tug-of-war. But...did they excel too much?

Are they hellhounds or aren’t they?

At every turn, the two maintained a high level of excitement and determination to win. They remained focused and never entered any of the emotional danger zones: anger, nervousness or fear.

Galen and Fox avoided her bedroom and the backyard, which was a good thing—for them. The more time that passed without Baden, the more Katarina’s stomach churned. The more her stomach churned, the snappier she became. The snappier she became, the more aggrieved the dogs became.