The Darkest Torment
Page 65
“It’s makeover Monday. Give Baden a new look.”
“Yes, sire.” Pippin chiseled a pebble from the edge of his tablet.
Hades. Flames. Ashes.
Those ashes adhered to Baden’s skin, as if glued, swiftly morphing into black leather pants with a multitude of zippers and a cotton T-shirt. Both were a perfect fit.
Baden wanted one of those tablets.
“Much better.” Hades drummed his nails against the arms of the throne. “Update me on your search for the coin.”
“Aleksander has proven more stubborn than I anticipated.”
“And the other tasks on your list?”
“Nearly completed.”
“Then you’ll be pleased to know I have a new job for you.”
One of Destruction’s memories fought its way to the forefront of his mind. His mother, the dark-haired beauty who’d feasted on his liver, sat upon a throne. That throne. Hades’s. She cringed at his approach, her sharp claws digging into the arms as she fought to rise—but she couldn’t. He held her in place with a power she couldn’t overcome. Shadows, all his beautiful shadows, swirled around her, hissing at her.
“—listening to me?” Hades snapped.
The male had suffered greatly at her hands, and he’d killed her for it. Killed his own mother. Mercilessly.
There was no line he would not cross when betrayed.
Focus! “I’m listening, yes.” Now.
“I want this artifact in my possession by the end of the day.” He clapped his hands and Pippin placed a new stone on his palm.
Flames. Ash. Baden breathed deeply, inhaling every particle. The artifact—a necklace—was known as the cœur de la terre. Two hundred carats of mystical blue coral. Exquisite, or so women claimed, but mostly desired for its supernatural properties. With it, a male or female of any race, even human, could live and breathe underwater with the Mers.
The current owner: Poseidon’s mistress, a delicate-looking forest nymph.
“Just one minor issue with this mission. Hardly bears mentioning,” Hades said with a wave. “If you succeed, the water king will lose his favorite concubine, and he’ll send assassins to kill you.”
Wonderful. “He won’t be the first or the last. I’ll handle him.”
Hades glanced at his manservant. “See, Pippin. I’m not being needlessly cruel. Baden welcomes the challenge.”
“Yes, sire.”
To Baden, Hades said, “Handle the water king, but don’t kill him. If the concubine has to die, she has to die. And remember, what you do, you do for the greater good.”
The greater good. Victory. The protection of his friends...of Katarina.
“I’ll acquire the necklace.” The qualification—by the end of the day—allowed him to launch a strike against Lucifer first. He was already in the underworld, so why not?
“Stop. I know that look,” Hades said with a frown. “What are you planning? Tell me true.”
The answer left him, pulled out by the power of the king’s command.
Hades thought for a moment, nodded. “Very well. I’ll even aid you. Pippin, if you please...”
Another piece of the tablet provided a map of the nine underworld realms and the ability to flash anywhere within them. The only location forbidden to him was inside Lucifer’s palace, the walls mystically blocked.
But there were ways around that. Or there would be by the time he finished.
When a weight pulled at the waist of his pants, he looked down. A grenade hung from every belt loop. He grinned. Here was the way.
Like for like. Lucifer destroyed his home, now Baden would destroy his.
He flashed to the outskirts of the male’s palace. A towering monstrosity built from blood and bones. The surrounding moat was a mix of acid and the tears of the damned. Above, dragons flew through a sky of smoke and fire.
The scent of sulfur and brimstone pervaded, blending with the fetid stench of death. A thousand screams of pain and fear created a gruesome soundtrack—far worse than anything he’d ever heard in Hades’s domain.
Armed guards patrolled the palace parapet. They spotted him and activated a shrill alarm. Baden lobbed a grenade. Boom! As the parapet crumbled in a burst of fire and debris, he flashed to the other side of the palace and lobbed a second grenade. He continued the assault until his belt loops were empty. Took a total of ten minutes, but during that time more than one guard managed to pinpoint his location. They pitched spears in his direction while others pitched spears everywhere else so that, when he flashed to a new location, one of those spears would find and gouge him.
Which it did.
On impact, he lost the ability to flash, was pinioned by an invisible barrier, Destruction roaring. Every guard focused on him then, throwing more spears. Just before the avalanche reached him, the beast was able to free him from the immobility.
He flashed again, intending to grab a handful of discarded spears, but he reappeared atop a steel trap—one made for flashers. Metal teeth snapped closed around his ankle, preventing him from dematerializing. The lines that marked every kill he’d made for Hades began to burn and blister, as if the beast breathed fire on them from the inside. Smoke actually rose from his skin, soon forming a wall around him.
Not smoke, he realized, but the creatures that had once lived inside his victims.
Shock clouted him in the chest. He’d witnessed the rise of shadows from Hades, had even seen a hint of the shadows when he’d dealt with the Berserker, but he’d never expected this.
An army took shape around him.
What the hell was he supposed to do? The humans who’d once hosted the creatures hadn’t known how to utilize them, Hades had said. Baden had no idea how to utilize them, either...and yet they were...helping him?
They were. The creatures separated from him, though an invisible tether kept them bound to his soul, preventing them from going too far. They stopped every weapon tossed his way—even a grenade. As fire blazed around him, unable to touch him, he reeled. Within seconds, the shadows were able to eat through the metal clamp, freeing him.
Be ready, Destruction said.
The very moment the shadows reabsorbed in his arms, Baden flashed home...but the fire leaped at him and he ended up taking multiple embers with him. They kindled on the carpet and curtains in the sitting room. He rushed to stomp them out before they could spread. When he finished, smoke filled the room. True smoke.
“Yes, sire.” Pippin chiseled a pebble from the edge of his tablet.
Hades. Flames. Ashes.
Those ashes adhered to Baden’s skin, as if glued, swiftly morphing into black leather pants with a multitude of zippers and a cotton T-shirt. Both were a perfect fit.
Baden wanted one of those tablets.
“Much better.” Hades drummed his nails against the arms of the throne. “Update me on your search for the coin.”
“Aleksander has proven more stubborn than I anticipated.”
“And the other tasks on your list?”
“Nearly completed.”
“Then you’ll be pleased to know I have a new job for you.”
One of Destruction’s memories fought its way to the forefront of his mind. His mother, the dark-haired beauty who’d feasted on his liver, sat upon a throne. That throne. Hades’s. She cringed at his approach, her sharp claws digging into the arms as she fought to rise—but she couldn’t. He held her in place with a power she couldn’t overcome. Shadows, all his beautiful shadows, swirled around her, hissing at her.
“—listening to me?” Hades snapped.
The male had suffered greatly at her hands, and he’d killed her for it. Killed his own mother. Mercilessly.
There was no line he would not cross when betrayed.
Focus! “I’m listening, yes.” Now.
“I want this artifact in my possession by the end of the day.” He clapped his hands and Pippin placed a new stone on his palm.
Flames. Ash. Baden breathed deeply, inhaling every particle. The artifact—a necklace—was known as the cœur de la terre. Two hundred carats of mystical blue coral. Exquisite, or so women claimed, but mostly desired for its supernatural properties. With it, a male or female of any race, even human, could live and breathe underwater with the Mers.
The current owner: Poseidon’s mistress, a delicate-looking forest nymph.
“Just one minor issue with this mission. Hardly bears mentioning,” Hades said with a wave. “If you succeed, the water king will lose his favorite concubine, and he’ll send assassins to kill you.”
Wonderful. “He won’t be the first or the last. I’ll handle him.”
Hades glanced at his manservant. “See, Pippin. I’m not being needlessly cruel. Baden welcomes the challenge.”
“Yes, sire.”
To Baden, Hades said, “Handle the water king, but don’t kill him. If the concubine has to die, she has to die. And remember, what you do, you do for the greater good.”
The greater good. Victory. The protection of his friends...of Katarina.
“I’ll acquire the necklace.” The qualification—by the end of the day—allowed him to launch a strike against Lucifer first. He was already in the underworld, so why not?
“Stop. I know that look,” Hades said with a frown. “What are you planning? Tell me true.”
The answer left him, pulled out by the power of the king’s command.
Hades thought for a moment, nodded. “Very well. I’ll even aid you. Pippin, if you please...”
Another piece of the tablet provided a map of the nine underworld realms and the ability to flash anywhere within them. The only location forbidden to him was inside Lucifer’s palace, the walls mystically blocked.
But there were ways around that. Or there would be by the time he finished.
When a weight pulled at the waist of his pants, he looked down. A grenade hung from every belt loop. He grinned. Here was the way.
Like for like. Lucifer destroyed his home, now Baden would destroy his.
He flashed to the outskirts of the male’s palace. A towering monstrosity built from blood and bones. The surrounding moat was a mix of acid and the tears of the damned. Above, dragons flew through a sky of smoke and fire.
The scent of sulfur and brimstone pervaded, blending with the fetid stench of death. A thousand screams of pain and fear created a gruesome soundtrack—far worse than anything he’d ever heard in Hades’s domain.
Armed guards patrolled the palace parapet. They spotted him and activated a shrill alarm. Baden lobbed a grenade. Boom! As the parapet crumbled in a burst of fire and debris, he flashed to the other side of the palace and lobbed a second grenade. He continued the assault until his belt loops were empty. Took a total of ten minutes, but during that time more than one guard managed to pinpoint his location. They pitched spears in his direction while others pitched spears everywhere else so that, when he flashed to a new location, one of those spears would find and gouge him.
Which it did.
On impact, he lost the ability to flash, was pinioned by an invisible barrier, Destruction roaring. Every guard focused on him then, throwing more spears. Just before the avalanche reached him, the beast was able to free him from the immobility.
He flashed again, intending to grab a handful of discarded spears, but he reappeared atop a steel trap—one made for flashers. Metal teeth snapped closed around his ankle, preventing him from dematerializing. The lines that marked every kill he’d made for Hades began to burn and blister, as if the beast breathed fire on them from the inside. Smoke actually rose from his skin, soon forming a wall around him.
Not smoke, he realized, but the creatures that had once lived inside his victims.
Shock clouted him in the chest. He’d witnessed the rise of shadows from Hades, had even seen a hint of the shadows when he’d dealt with the Berserker, but he’d never expected this.
An army took shape around him.
What the hell was he supposed to do? The humans who’d once hosted the creatures hadn’t known how to utilize them, Hades had said. Baden had no idea how to utilize them, either...and yet they were...helping him?
They were. The creatures separated from him, though an invisible tether kept them bound to his soul, preventing them from going too far. They stopped every weapon tossed his way—even a grenade. As fire blazed around him, unable to touch him, he reeled. Within seconds, the shadows were able to eat through the metal clamp, freeing him.
Be ready, Destruction said.
The very moment the shadows reabsorbed in his arms, Baden flashed home...but the fire leaped at him and he ended up taking multiple embers with him. They kindled on the carpet and curtains in the sitting room. He rushed to stomp them out before they could spread. When he finished, smoke filled the room. True smoke.
