The Darkest Torment
Page 37
“The underworld.”
Even worse! “You have no idea who your real family is?”
“I have an idea, but I’m not interested in a reunion. I have you, and I have Anya and those fools she refuses to let me kill. That’s enough.”
He considers me family. Tears burned her eyes, and her chin trembled. “Why do you like me?” He hadn’t answered Hades, but maybe he would answer her.
“Don’t be silly, poppet. What’s not to like about you?”
Where to start? She was scared of the dark, she was damaged mentally and she would never have any interest in sex.
Your tits are too small. You need a boob job.
I shouldn’t have to lube you up to make you wet.
Nausea struck...
“You’re immortal,” she said. “You’ve had experiences I can’t even fathom. You’re worldly and sophisticated and I’m—”
“You are wonderful, and I don’t want to hear another negative word come out of your mouth. Sleep. For real this time, or I’ll punish you.”
She snorted. As if he’d ever hurt her.
He ruffled her hair and stood. “There’s a bell on the nightstand. If you need anything, anything at all, ring it. I’ll be here in seconds.”
Where was he going? What would he be doing?
She swallowed both questions. Won’t cling!
Footsteps...the lights switched off, and she gasped with fear. The lights switched back on, and she sighed. Hinges squeaked as the door opened and closed.
Silence reigned. Ugh. She was alone with her thoughts. Which was never a good thing.
Drawing on every bit of strength she possessed, she rolled to her side. Dizziness swam laps in her head and oh, crap, when had the ceiling and floor traded places? She wanted to reach for the bell—William would make everything better—but moving again proved impossible. Breathing was barely possible. She had zero juice left in her system, her limbs suddenly a thousand pounds each.
The tears returned to her eyes and through the haze, a pair of furry boots appeared. William had returned? In snow boots?
A soft sigh drifted to her ears as he crouched down. She frowned. He smelled different. He smelled like peat smoke and lavender, and it was nice, very nice, but still different. The heat he exuded was wonderful, but also wrong.
This wasn’t William.
She tried to scream, but only managed to moan.
“There’ll be none of that, now.” The intruder had an Irish accent, his voice rough, and yet it held no note of viciousness. No note of any emotion, really. “I’m not here to hurt ye.”
A lie to keep her calm?
Again she tried to scream. Again she failed.
Have to warn William. He would never allow a man in her bedroom. Not even a friend.
One of those jealous husbands Hades had mentioned?
Couldn’t be. No one comes or goes without my knowledge, he’d said.
As the newcomer tucked the covers around her, her panic...ebbed? He gently wiped away her newest flood of tears and suddenly she had a clear—well, clearer—view of him. He was...what was he? He had the top half of a man and the bottom half of an animal. A goat, maybe? His legs were furred, a loincloth draped between them. He had hoofs.
“Eyes up here, lass.”
Cheeks heating, she looked up—and gasped. He had the most mesmerizing face, a rival to William. He had dark skin and dark eyes, an aquiline nose and blade-thin lips. His hair was long and black with razors woven through the strands. And he had horns! Small and curved, but definitely there. They rose from the crown of his head. Wide shoulders led to strong arms and clawed hands.
Claws... Monster!
Can’t be real, can’t be real. A hallucination?
“I was told I could aid you,” he said. “That we could aid each other. I wasn’t told you belonged to William of the Dark, or that you were sick. And human.” He sneered the last, as if there was something wrong with her race. “What are you doing with a male of his...reputation?”
“Wh-who are you?” she asked.
He frowned and reached for a lock of her hair. She cringed, and his frown deepened. Still, no emotion touched his eyes as he dropped his arm to his side.
“I’m Pukinn.”
Puck-en. Never heard of him.
“You may call me Puck. I’m the keeper of Indifference.”
So. He was one of the demon-possessed warriors, but not one of the ones she’d met. He hadn’t stolen and opened Pandora’s box. He’d... She racked her brain and dug up a vague memory about the leftover demons being given to the prisoners of Tartarus, a prison for immortals.
Her mind played a little word-association game: prison...criminal...dangerous...no moral compass—and the panic kicked into high gear.
The man sighed again, as if disappointed with her. “I’m not sure you can aid me, but I think I’ll allow you to try. I’ll return after you’ve gotten used to the idea.” With that, he stalked to the balcony, climbed the rail and jumped.
Gillian sagged against the mattress, a fine sheen of sweat covering her skin. Gradually, though, her heartbeat slowed and the sweat cooled.
By the time William returned to check on her, she felt normal again. Well, as normal as could be, considering she was dying. He paused halfway to the bed, sniffed the air and frowned, then looked her over.
She opened her mouth to tell him all about her visitor, only to change her mind. The guy—Puck—hadn’t hurt her and if she mentioned him, William would hunt him down. Maybe kill him. Definitely torture him. She’d heard stories about William’s expert torture techniques and absolute love for the task.
Which made her comfortableness with him even stranger.
“You up for seeing another doctor, poppet?”
“My lord...sir,” an unfamiliar voice said. Only then did Gilly notice a short, rounded man with scales instead of skin standing beside him. “I’ve spoken to my colleagues, and we agree. She has morte ad vitam and as you know, there’s no cure.”
* * *
“Remember. Come on! Remember.” Cameo, keeper of Misery, pulled at her hair, banged her fists into her temples and when that failed, banged her forehead into the wall. No matter what she did, her mind remained a blank slate.
Frustration ate at what little control she had left. Ever since her possession, she’d experienced memory loss whenever she stumbled upon a road that would lead to her happiness. A few weeks ago, ancient artifacts had sucked her into a different realm. Apparently. She couldn’t remember, which meant someone she’d met or something there had the power to change her life for the better.
Even worse! “You have no idea who your real family is?”
“I have an idea, but I’m not interested in a reunion. I have you, and I have Anya and those fools she refuses to let me kill. That’s enough.”
He considers me family. Tears burned her eyes, and her chin trembled. “Why do you like me?” He hadn’t answered Hades, but maybe he would answer her.
“Don’t be silly, poppet. What’s not to like about you?”
Where to start? She was scared of the dark, she was damaged mentally and she would never have any interest in sex.
Your tits are too small. You need a boob job.
I shouldn’t have to lube you up to make you wet.
Nausea struck...
“You’re immortal,” she said. “You’ve had experiences I can’t even fathom. You’re worldly and sophisticated and I’m—”
“You are wonderful, and I don’t want to hear another negative word come out of your mouth. Sleep. For real this time, or I’ll punish you.”
She snorted. As if he’d ever hurt her.
He ruffled her hair and stood. “There’s a bell on the nightstand. If you need anything, anything at all, ring it. I’ll be here in seconds.”
Where was he going? What would he be doing?
She swallowed both questions. Won’t cling!
Footsteps...the lights switched off, and she gasped with fear. The lights switched back on, and she sighed. Hinges squeaked as the door opened and closed.
Silence reigned. Ugh. She was alone with her thoughts. Which was never a good thing.
Drawing on every bit of strength she possessed, she rolled to her side. Dizziness swam laps in her head and oh, crap, when had the ceiling and floor traded places? She wanted to reach for the bell—William would make everything better—but moving again proved impossible. Breathing was barely possible. She had zero juice left in her system, her limbs suddenly a thousand pounds each.
The tears returned to her eyes and through the haze, a pair of furry boots appeared. William had returned? In snow boots?
A soft sigh drifted to her ears as he crouched down. She frowned. He smelled different. He smelled like peat smoke and lavender, and it was nice, very nice, but still different. The heat he exuded was wonderful, but also wrong.
This wasn’t William.
She tried to scream, but only managed to moan.
“There’ll be none of that, now.” The intruder had an Irish accent, his voice rough, and yet it held no note of viciousness. No note of any emotion, really. “I’m not here to hurt ye.”
A lie to keep her calm?
Again she tried to scream. Again she failed.
Have to warn William. He would never allow a man in her bedroom. Not even a friend.
One of those jealous husbands Hades had mentioned?
Couldn’t be. No one comes or goes without my knowledge, he’d said.
As the newcomer tucked the covers around her, her panic...ebbed? He gently wiped away her newest flood of tears and suddenly she had a clear—well, clearer—view of him. He was...what was he? He had the top half of a man and the bottom half of an animal. A goat, maybe? His legs were furred, a loincloth draped between them. He had hoofs.
“Eyes up here, lass.”
Cheeks heating, she looked up—and gasped. He had the most mesmerizing face, a rival to William. He had dark skin and dark eyes, an aquiline nose and blade-thin lips. His hair was long and black with razors woven through the strands. And he had horns! Small and curved, but definitely there. They rose from the crown of his head. Wide shoulders led to strong arms and clawed hands.
Claws... Monster!
Can’t be real, can’t be real. A hallucination?
“I was told I could aid you,” he said. “That we could aid each other. I wasn’t told you belonged to William of the Dark, or that you were sick. And human.” He sneered the last, as if there was something wrong with her race. “What are you doing with a male of his...reputation?”
“Wh-who are you?” she asked.
He frowned and reached for a lock of her hair. She cringed, and his frown deepened. Still, no emotion touched his eyes as he dropped his arm to his side.
“I’m Pukinn.”
Puck-en. Never heard of him.
“You may call me Puck. I’m the keeper of Indifference.”
So. He was one of the demon-possessed warriors, but not one of the ones she’d met. He hadn’t stolen and opened Pandora’s box. He’d... She racked her brain and dug up a vague memory about the leftover demons being given to the prisoners of Tartarus, a prison for immortals.
Her mind played a little word-association game: prison...criminal...dangerous...no moral compass—and the panic kicked into high gear.
The man sighed again, as if disappointed with her. “I’m not sure you can aid me, but I think I’ll allow you to try. I’ll return after you’ve gotten used to the idea.” With that, he stalked to the balcony, climbed the rail and jumped.
Gillian sagged against the mattress, a fine sheen of sweat covering her skin. Gradually, though, her heartbeat slowed and the sweat cooled.
By the time William returned to check on her, she felt normal again. Well, as normal as could be, considering she was dying. He paused halfway to the bed, sniffed the air and frowned, then looked her over.
She opened her mouth to tell him all about her visitor, only to change her mind. The guy—Puck—hadn’t hurt her and if she mentioned him, William would hunt him down. Maybe kill him. Definitely torture him. She’d heard stories about William’s expert torture techniques and absolute love for the task.
Which made her comfortableness with him even stranger.
“You up for seeing another doctor, poppet?”
“My lord...sir,” an unfamiliar voice said. Only then did Gilly notice a short, rounded man with scales instead of skin standing beside him. “I’ve spoken to my colleagues, and we agree. She has morte ad vitam and as you know, there’s no cure.”
* * *
“Remember. Come on! Remember.” Cameo, keeper of Misery, pulled at her hair, banged her fists into her temples and when that failed, banged her forehead into the wall. No matter what she did, her mind remained a blank slate.
Frustration ate at what little control she had left. Ever since her possession, she’d experienced memory loss whenever she stumbled upon a road that would lead to her happiness. A few weeks ago, ancient artifacts had sucked her into a different realm. Apparently. She couldn’t remember, which meant someone she’d met or something there had the power to change her life for the better.
