The Darkest Torment
Page 41
As he shook his hands, shocked by the transformation, the claws retracted.
Bjorn held out his arm, stopping both Xerxes and the Berserker in an instant. Without glancing away from Baden, he said, “Calm yourself, Colin, or I’ll do it for you.”
The warning worked, the Berserker remaining in place.
“Look at the warrior’s arms,” Bjorn said to Xerxes. “He’s wearing serpentine wreaths.”
Baden glanced at his biceps, where his shirtsleeves had caught on the metal. “They’re part of the reason I wish to speak with you.”
Xerxes hesitated only a moment before waving him forward. Bjorn signaled his private bartender.
Baden strode to the shadowed corner illuminated by candlelight. Two scantily clad women lounged on a couch and one on a recliner, each twittering excitedly when he came into view.
“It’s Jamie freaking Fraser!”
“I know. Okay, okay, you talked me into it. I’ll have your Scottish babies.”
“Take off your shirt. Or would you prefer I rip it off you?”
Baden expected his lust to return full force. These women offered the sex he wanted. The sex he needed. Easy and uncomplicated. Release and relief. Except, they weren’t Katarina, and his body remained unaffected.
He scowled. The identity of his lover shouldn’t matter. Desire was his weapon, his means of governing the beast. Craving a specific woman turned every sensation into a weakness—gave her the power.
“Leave,” Xerxes told the women, no hint of softness in his tone.
The twittering stopped as the three beat feet. Baden sank into the recliner, leaving the backless couch for the Sent Ones. More room for their wings.
“Who gave you the wreaths?” Bjorn asked. “Hades or Lucifer?”
Were they the only two immortals with the power to use them? “Hades.”
“So you are under his control.”
“Yes.” The admission was gritted, but honesty was essential. Sent Ones would taste a lie. “I can’t remove the bands without removing my arms, something I’m unwilling to do. Without the bands, I’ll die. Again. Only this time, death will be permanent.”
A nod from both.
Getting nowhere. “How do they work?” Baden asked.
Bjorn tilted his head to the side. “Think of it this way. If you take a seed from a piece of fruit, plant and water it, the seed grows into a tree that produces fruit of its own. They are different, but they are the same.”
Meaning...what? The wreaths were a seed, and the roots were now firmly planted inside him? “I have visions of another life. The wreaths used to be a person...a creature.”
“You’re right,” Xerxes said. “The wreaths were created from Hades’s heart. He removed it, burned it and forged the bands from ashes that would forever contain his essence.”
What. The. Hell?
Destruction was Hades? The memories were Hades’s?
No, no. Impossible. And yet, so many things suddenly made sense. The way Hades acted, threatening to kill him then changing his mind, almost as if he cared for Baden—because he cared for himself. The beast had known Keeley—because Hades had been engaged to her. The beast quieted in Hades’s presence—because he wanted what Hades wanted.
Nothing to say? he snarled. The beast had known the truth. The beast had always known.
I am Destruction.
You are. You’re also so much more. And Baden should have realized. What a fool!
“How many wreaths are out there?” he asked.
“The exact number isn’t known,” Bjorn said. “But my guess? Not many.”
Baden didn’t know if he was blessed or cursed. What would happen to Destruction when the bands were removed? The creature was bound to the metal, but not to Baden...right? Would he finally have the chance to live free of any kind of possession, as he dreamed?
Excitement...
Rage, courtesy of the beast. I will live!
“What about my new tattoos?” Baden demanded. “They grew from the wreaths and thicken after I kill Hades’s targets.”
“You should understand the insidious nature of evil better than most.” Xerxes ran a dagger over his arm, creating a wound. “Right now, the injury is raw, open, unable to fight infection. It needs to scab to protect itself.”
“So...?”
“Evil infects, spreads and welcomes other evil,” Bjorn said.
Baden waited. The Sent One said no more. “I didn’t hear an answer to my question.”
“Just because you didn’t hear it, doesn’t mean we failed to offer it.”
Pompous piece of—
A waitress arrived with a tray of ambrosia shots. After Baden knocked back three in quick succession, Bjorn waved her away.
The Sent Ones had their own troubles, he knew. Bjorn had been forced to marry to some kind of shadow queen—like Hades’s shadows...Baden’s shadows?—and she was slowly draining the life from him. Xerxes was rumored to be on the hunt for a she-beast determined to kill him.
Cheers erupted throughout the club, and someone called Taliyah’s name.
She had arrived.
“Whatever happens in the war between father and son,” Bjorn said, “we can’t allow Lucifer to win. Our oracles have spoken. If Hades emerges as victor, the world will survive.”
“If Lucifer is victor,” Xerxes said, “the world as we know it will end.”
Apocalypse, Destruction whispered in warning.
“You have other questions, I’m sure,” Bjorn added and Baden nodded.
“But we have no other answers to offer you,” Xerxes finished.
Oh, they had answers. Just no others they would share. But Baden wasn’t going to push. He owed these men, and he wouldn’t repay them with violence.
“Thank you for the chat,” he said as he stood.
The Sent Ones stood, as well.
The red in Xerxes’s eyes deepened. “Word of your association with Hades is going to spread. There’ll be no stopping it, so be prepared. One day soon, Lucifer will send someone to kill you.”
He already had. The prostitutes William had killed.
“I will prevail.” With that, he strode off to hunt the Harpy. Not that he had to hunt for long.
She was straddling a mechanical bull in the middle of the club, her short skirt revealing every inch of her legs and a hint of the panties he needed. Pale hair danced over her shoulders as the bull bucked back and forth. She had both hands free, double-fisting shots while maintaining her position with the strength of her thighs.
Bjorn held out his arm, stopping both Xerxes and the Berserker in an instant. Without glancing away from Baden, he said, “Calm yourself, Colin, or I’ll do it for you.”
The warning worked, the Berserker remaining in place.
“Look at the warrior’s arms,” Bjorn said to Xerxes. “He’s wearing serpentine wreaths.”
Baden glanced at his biceps, where his shirtsleeves had caught on the metal. “They’re part of the reason I wish to speak with you.”
Xerxes hesitated only a moment before waving him forward. Bjorn signaled his private bartender.
Baden strode to the shadowed corner illuminated by candlelight. Two scantily clad women lounged on a couch and one on a recliner, each twittering excitedly when he came into view.
“It’s Jamie freaking Fraser!”
“I know. Okay, okay, you talked me into it. I’ll have your Scottish babies.”
“Take off your shirt. Or would you prefer I rip it off you?”
Baden expected his lust to return full force. These women offered the sex he wanted. The sex he needed. Easy and uncomplicated. Release and relief. Except, they weren’t Katarina, and his body remained unaffected.
He scowled. The identity of his lover shouldn’t matter. Desire was his weapon, his means of governing the beast. Craving a specific woman turned every sensation into a weakness—gave her the power.
“Leave,” Xerxes told the women, no hint of softness in his tone.
The twittering stopped as the three beat feet. Baden sank into the recliner, leaving the backless couch for the Sent Ones. More room for their wings.
“Who gave you the wreaths?” Bjorn asked. “Hades or Lucifer?”
Were they the only two immortals with the power to use them? “Hades.”
“So you are under his control.”
“Yes.” The admission was gritted, but honesty was essential. Sent Ones would taste a lie. “I can’t remove the bands without removing my arms, something I’m unwilling to do. Without the bands, I’ll die. Again. Only this time, death will be permanent.”
A nod from both.
Getting nowhere. “How do they work?” Baden asked.
Bjorn tilted his head to the side. “Think of it this way. If you take a seed from a piece of fruit, plant and water it, the seed grows into a tree that produces fruit of its own. They are different, but they are the same.”
Meaning...what? The wreaths were a seed, and the roots were now firmly planted inside him? “I have visions of another life. The wreaths used to be a person...a creature.”
“You’re right,” Xerxes said. “The wreaths were created from Hades’s heart. He removed it, burned it and forged the bands from ashes that would forever contain his essence.”
What. The. Hell?
Destruction was Hades? The memories were Hades’s?
No, no. Impossible. And yet, so many things suddenly made sense. The way Hades acted, threatening to kill him then changing his mind, almost as if he cared for Baden—because he cared for himself. The beast had known Keeley—because Hades had been engaged to her. The beast quieted in Hades’s presence—because he wanted what Hades wanted.
Nothing to say? he snarled. The beast had known the truth. The beast had always known.
I am Destruction.
You are. You’re also so much more. And Baden should have realized. What a fool!
“How many wreaths are out there?” he asked.
“The exact number isn’t known,” Bjorn said. “But my guess? Not many.”
Baden didn’t know if he was blessed or cursed. What would happen to Destruction when the bands were removed? The creature was bound to the metal, but not to Baden...right? Would he finally have the chance to live free of any kind of possession, as he dreamed?
Excitement...
Rage, courtesy of the beast. I will live!
“What about my new tattoos?” Baden demanded. “They grew from the wreaths and thicken after I kill Hades’s targets.”
“You should understand the insidious nature of evil better than most.” Xerxes ran a dagger over his arm, creating a wound. “Right now, the injury is raw, open, unable to fight infection. It needs to scab to protect itself.”
“So...?”
“Evil infects, spreads and welcomes other evil,” Bjorn said.
Baden waited. The Sent One said no more. “I didn’t hear an answer to my question.”
“Just because you didn’t hear it, doesn’t mean we failed to offer it.”
Pompous piece of—
A waitress arrived with a tray of ambrosia shots. After Baden knocked back three in quick succession, Bjorn waved her away.
The Sent Ones had their own troubles, he knew. Bjorn had been forced to marry to some kind of shadow queen—like Hades’s shadows...Baden’s shadows?—and she was slowly draining the life from him. Xerxes was rumored to be on the hunt for a she-beast determined to kill him.
Cheers erupted throughout the club, and someone called Taliyah’s name.
She had arrived.
“Whatever happens in the war between father and son,” Bjorn said, “we can’t allow Lucifer to win. Our oracles have spoken. If Hades emerges as victor, the world will survive.”
“If Lucifer is victor,” Xerxes said, “the world as we know it will end.”
Apocalypse, Destruction whispered in warning.
“You have other questions, I’m sure,” Bjorn added and Baden nodded.
“But we have no other answers to offer you,” Xerxes finished.
Oh, they had answers. Just no others they would share. But Baden wasn’t going to push. He owed these men, and he wouldn’t repay them with violence.
“Thank you for the chat,” he said as he stood.
The Sent Ones stood, as well.
The red in Xerxes’s eyes deepened. “Word of your association with Hades is going to spread. There’ll be no stopping it, so be prepared. One day soon, Lucifer will send someone to kill you.”
He already had. The prostitutes William had killed.
“I will prevail.” With that, he strode off to hunt the Harpy. Not that he had to hunt for long.
She was straddling a mechanical bull in the middle of the club, her short skirt revealing every inch of her legs and a hint of the panties he needed. Pale hair danced over her shoulders as the bull bucked back and forth. She had both hands free, double-fisting shots while maintaining her position with the strength of her thighs.
