The Darkest Torment
Page 58
Gideon was beside the bed, hunched over and vomiting into a bucket.
He must have spoken a word of truth sometime during the chaos, allowing the demon to sicken him.
Evil always pounced on the chance to hurt—even with its host.
The blue-haired warrior wiped his mouth with a shaky hand and kicked the barf bucket a few feet away. “Not sorry,” he rasped to his wife. “Love seeing you like this.” He had a gash that stretched from his hairline to his jaw, cutting through one of his eyes and practically splitting his nose in two.
“I’ve had worse,” she told him. “And don’t take this the wrong way, darling, but you’re hideous. Go lie down. Lucien and Anya are the doctors du jour and they can—”
Gideon gave an adamant shake of his head. “Yeah, you’re fine. I’m leaving.”
“I can set her leg,” Baden interjected. “I have field training.” He’d had to doctor himself in the realm of the dead. “I can help.” He needed to help.
Relief bathed Gideon’s features. “No way and no thanks.”
Baden gathered everything he required and got to work. Scarlet refused an ambrosia-laced whiskey for the sake of the baby. A mother’s love was something Baden had never known. Not in life, and certainly not in the beast’s memory.
Gideon held Scarlet’s hand while Baden fit the bones back together, but it wasn’t until he stitched the wound closed that Scarlet began to snarl at him, the pain too much to bear.
Between one blink and the next, he saw spiders crawling all over the room. An illusion brought about by her demon. The bastard specialized in bringing people’s worst fears to life. Today, the fear happened to spring from Gideon, who stumbled backward, patting at his arms and cursing.
The spiders avoided Baden altogether, as if they feared him.
“This game is fun,” Gideon bellowed.
“Sorry, so sorry.” Scarlet closed her eyes, her brow furrowing, and the illusion began to recede.
When Baden finished his task, the woman sagged against the mattress with a sigh of relief.
“No thanks, man.” Gideon patted his shoulder, the contact irritating Baden’s skin, despite the shirt he wore. He turned to his wife. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
“I hate you, too.”
A tender, poignant moment between two people who would die for each other.
A pang in his chest, Baden washed his hands and checked on the other patients. Most were already patched up and on the mend.
Strike now. No resistance means total victory.
Threaten them again and I’ll find a way to end you.
The beast sputtered, surprised and...hurt?
A guy could only take so much. Baden had been pushed past his limit. He—everyone—had been unprepared for the battle today, and it was his fault. He’d known Lucifer would send someone after him. He’d been warned. But he’d foolishly thought he could handle it. Bastard will have to get through me. Well, the bastard had. Quite easily.
Lucifer would send another assassin, and soon.
As Hades’s trusted enforcer, Baden was a greater hazard to Lucifer than his friends. He would leave, hopefully removing the target on them, giving them time to heal from their injuries.
He would take Katarina with him, despite the danger. If ever she helped Aleksander, hurting the men, women and children Baden adored...
His friends would protest his decision. Loudly. Look how Torin and Paris had reacted at the mere thought of his departure.
At the very least, the warriors would insist someone go with him. Only Cameo and Galen were mate-free, which meant they were the only two Baden would willingly accept, but he didn’t want to put Cameo at unnecessary risk. Galen—Baden shrugged. He would put the warrior at unnecessary risk, no problem. There were ways to ensure the deceitful prick remained faithful.
He searched the makeshift triage area and found Galen leaning against the far wall, studying the occupants with a bored expression.
As the keeper of Jealousy and False Hope, Galen tended to cause trouble everywhere he went. Had he known the assassin was on the way and that’s why he’d left the fortress hours earlier?
Betrayer!
Destruction drove Baden straight to the male. He wrapped a hand around Galen’s throat, lifting him off his feet.
Smiling—smiling?—Galen swung up his legs around Baden’s neck. The position bent his arms in ways they weren’t supposed to bend, forcing his grip to loosen, and though Galen’s wings had been cut off months ago, they were now growing back and big enough to anchor him—he hovered in the air while Baden stumbled back.
Galen maneuvered his feet to Baden’s shoulders and pushed, increasing the distance between them. Baden could no longer maintain any kind of grip or even his balance. He released Galen, who dropped to the floor in a crouch.
Blue eyes peered through hanks of pale hair, his grin only growing wider. “Want to talk about your problem or continue your ass-whooping?”
“Where were you during the attack?” Baden demanded.
A flicker of unease, quickly hidden. “Out.”
Out? “Doing what?”
“My thang.”
“And what is your thang?”
“Something that’s not your business,” Galen replied.
“Everything that endangers my friends is my business.”
“Really?” One golden brow arched. “Did you feel the same four thousand years ago, when you allowed my man to take your head?”
The words were a dagger to the chest. Galen had once been leader of the Hunters, a faction of humans determined to rid the world of “evil” immortals. Humans who hadn’t realized an immortal led them.
“Did you aid Lucifer’s assassin?” Baden demanded.
“Fuck you. I may be rotten to the core, but I’m not stupid.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Good, because it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I don’t trust you. I’ll never trust you.”
With an exaggerated frown, Galen placed a hand over his heart. “Am I crying? I’m certain I’m crying.”
Destruction snarled.
“Months ago you told us Cronus locked you up in the Realm of Blood and Tears. Guess what?” Baden spread his arms. “Cronus was dead at the time of your incarceration.”
“So?”
“So. You’ve been caught in a lie.”
He must have spoken a word of truth sometime during the chaos, allowing the demon to sicken him.
Evil always pounced on the chance to hurt—even with its host.
The blue-haired warrior wiped his mouth with a shaky hand and kicked the barf bucket a few feet away. “Not sorry,” he rasped to his wife. “Love seeing you like this.” He had a gash that stretched from his hairline to his jaw, cutting through one of his eyes and practically splitting his nose in two.
“I’ve had worse,” she told him. “And don’t take this the wrong way, darling, but you’re hideous. Go lie down. Lucien and Anya are the doctors du jour and they can—”
Gideon gave an adamant shake of his head. “Yeah, you’re fine. I’m leaving.”
“I can set her leg,” Baden interjected. “I have field training.” He’d had to doctor himself in the realm of the dead. “I can help.” He needed to help.
Relief bathed Gideon’s features. “No way and no thanks.”
Baden gathered everything he required and got to work. Scarlet refused an ambrosia-laced whiskey for the sake of the baby. A mother’s love was something Baden had never known. Not in life, and certainly not in the beast’s memory.
Gideon held Scarlet’s hand while Baden fit the bones back together, but it wasn’t until he stitched the wound closed that Scarlet began to snarl at him, the pain too much to bear.
Between one blink and the next, he saw spiders crawling all over the room. An illusion brought about by her demon. The bastard specialized in bringing people’s worst fears to life. Today, the fear happened to spring from Gideon, who stumbled backward, patting at his arms and cursing.
The spiders avoided Baden altogether, as if they feared him.
“This game is fun,” Gideon bellowed.
“Sorry, so sorry.” Scarlet closed her eyes, her brow furrowing, and the illusion began to recede.
When Baden finished his task, the woman sagged against the mattress with a sigh of relief.
“No thanks, man.” Gideon patted his shoulder, the contact irritating Baden’s skin, despite the shirt he wore. He turned to his wife. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”
“I hate you, too.”
A tender, poignant moment between two people who would die for each other.
A pang in his chest, Baden washed his hands and checked on the other patients. Most were already patched up and on the mend.
Strike now. No resistance means total victory.
Threaten them again and I’ll find a way to end you.
The beast sputtered, surprised and...hurt?
A guy could only take so much. Baden had been pushed past his limit. He—everyone—had been unprepared for the battle today, and it was his fault. He’d known Lucifer would send someone after him. He’d been warned. But he’d foolishly thought he could handle it. Bastard will have to get through me. Well, the bastard had. Quite easily.
Lucifer would send another assassin, and soon.
As Hades’s trusted enforcer, Baden was a greater hazard to Lucifer than his friends. He would leave, hopefully removing the target on them, giving them time to heal from their injuries.
He would take Katarina with him, despite the danger. If ever she helped Aleksander, hurting the men, women and children Baden adored...
His friends would protest his decision. Loudly. Look how Torin and Paris had reacted at the mere thought of his departure.
At the very least, the warriors would insist someone go with him. Only Cameo and Galen were mate-free, which meant they were the only two Baden would willingly accept, but he didn’t want to put Cameo at unnecessary risk. Galen—Baden shrugged. He would put the warrior at unnecessary risk, no problem. There were ways to ensure the deceitful prick remained faithful.
He searched the makeshift triage area and found Galen leaning against the far wall, studying the occupants with a bored expression.
As the keeper of Jealousy and False Hope, Galen tended to cause trouble everywhere he went. Had he known the assassin was on the way and that’s why he’d left the fortress hours earlier?
Betrayer!
Destruction drove Baden straight to the male. He wrapped a hand around Galen’s throat, lifting him off his feet.
Smiling—smiling?—Galen swung up his legs around Baden’s neck. The position bent his arms in ways they weren’t supposed to bend, forcing his grip to loosen, and though Galen’s wings had been cut off months ago, they were now growing back and big enough to anchor him—he hovered in the air while Baden stumbled back.
Galen maneuvered his feet to Baden’s shoulders and pushed, increasing the distance between them. Baden could no longer maintain any kind of grip or even his balance. He released Galen, who dropped to the floor in a crouch.
Blue eyes peered through hanks of pale hair, his grin only growing wider. “Want to talk about your problem or continue your ass-whooping?”
“Where were you during the attack?” Baden demanded.
A flicker of unease, quickly hidden. “Out.”
Out? “Doing what?”
“My thang.”
“And what is your thang?”
“Something that’s not your business,” Galen replied.
“Everything that endangers my friends is my business.”
“Really?” One golden brow arched. “Did you feel the same four thousand years ago, when you allowed my man to take your head?”
The words were a dagger to the chest. Galen had once been leader of the Hunters, a faction of humans determined to rid the world of “evil” immortals. Humans who hadn’t realized an immortal led them.
“Did you aid Lucifer’s assassin?” Baden demanded.
“Fuck you. I may be rotten to the core, but I’m not stupid.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Good, because it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I don’t trust you. I’ll never trust you.”
With an exaggerated frown, Galen placed a hand over his heart. “Am I crying? I’m certain I’m crying.”
Destruction snarled.
“Months ago you told us Cronus locked you up in the Realm of Blood and Tears. Guess what?” Baden spread his arms. “Cronus was dead at the time of your incarceration.”
“So?”
“So. You’ve been caught in a lie.”
