The Darkest Torment (Lords of the Underworld 12)

When Pandora had mentioned the bounty on Katarina’s head—why does Lucifer want her dead?—Baden had almost killed her. The woman he’d just admitted was the closest thing he had to a sister. If she made a play for the human... But Pandora had merely laughed at him. Laughed. Because the situation put him at a serious disadvantage.

She’d said, We’re currently tied. As distracted as you are, I’m sure I’ll pull ahead any day. For that alone, I wish your human well. I like you, Baden, but I still plan to trounce you. Because, if we’re wrong and Hades doesn’t feel affection for us, one of us will die. Again. I’m determined to live.

As am I. He wanted a life with Katarina. Who would still age, despite her connection to the hellhounds. But that was a worry—a trial—for another day.

Last night, after another assassin job for Hades, Baden had asked the male to make Katarina immortal. The response?

Not going to happen, Red. Not now, not ever. If I turn your woman after refusing to turn William’s, my son would help Lucifer simply to spite me.

Am I not also your son? he’d almost asked. Almost. But he’d held his tongue. Like Pandora had said, if they were wrong and Hades felt no affection for them...

“What are you doing up there, Baden?” Katarina called.

“My duty. My honor.” He was high in a tree, anchoring cameras to different limbs so that he would have a view of the desert from every angle.

Katarina and the pups entered the backyard. The trio of glaring suns stroked her lovingly. And why not? She wore a white bikini that displayed her delectable curves to perfection; she was a temptation like no other.

Destruction licked hungry lips. Must have her again.

Must wait until she comes to us.

Something they’d learned: Katarina’s willingness was the key to their pleasure.

As Baden worked, his gaze returned to her again and again, his every muscle knotting, his shaft throbbing behind his zipper.

Sunglasses hid her eyes, but he thought she might be watching him, too. She stretched out on the grass, rubbed her knees together and shifted restlessly. Her nipples were beaded and clearly defined as she poured a cup of water down her chest in an effort to cool off.

“I want you, Rina.”

She winced, all how embarrassing for you. “That’s obvious, drahý.”

“And still you’re going to deny me?”

“I mentioned my anger with you, yes?”

“No, you didn’t.” Vengeful women were a nuisance. And sexy. Mostly sexy. “You mentioned fury. You must be cooling off.”

She sputtered for a moment, before settling on, “Don’t you prefer me hot?”

Must have her soon.

Each day, Katarina and the pups had done their own thing. She’d taught them to play fetch and other games, had worked on their manners and obedience, and had even ensured they practiced biting and tugging on a padded sleeve. Her love for the animals was obvious. She constantly smiled at them, petted them and welcomed their sloppy kisses. Baden, she’d ignored.

He missed her smiles. He yearned for her pets.

“Where are Tweedledee and Tweedledum?” she asked.

Galen and Fox. They’d helped him set many of the traps and had only flipped him off a dozen times a day when he’d double-checked their work. “They’re hanging cameras in front of the house.”

Laboring with Galen had reminded him of the days they’d spent in Olympus, when they’d guarded Zeus. They’d fought together, bled together, partied and laughed together.

Still can’t afford to trust him.

Baden climbed higher in the tree to place the final camera—and movement just over the wall stopped him. He palmed his cell phone rather than a gun. Many of the traps he’d set were controlled remotely and with the press of a few buttons, he could blow sections of the realm to hell and back.

His finger paused over the keyboard, and he watched, ready, but the scenery remained the same.

He finished his work and dropped, landing with considerable force but absorbing impact without missing a beat. “Let’s go inside and—” His bands heated, emitting a soft red glow.

A summons.

As Destruction snarled with irritation, Baden said, “I’d like you to go inside. Katarina? At least until I return—”

The backyard vanished and as usual, Hades’s throne room came into view.

“Enough,” Baden barked. “If you wish to see me, call. Text. Now send me back.”

“When have protests ever helped you?” The king was shirtless, blood and other things streaked over his chest. Bits of tissue hung from dark strands of his hair. He wore black leather pants that had been ripped at the knees, and he had on one boot, the other missing.