The Darkest Torment
Page 70
Fingers snapped in front of her face. She blinked open her eyes to find out she was seated rather than prone. Even more confusing, the pain had left her completely, her skin and clothing dry with no hint of perspiration. The only sign something had happened was the metallic taste in her mouth. Had she bitten her tongue? No, there were no sores on it.
Galen crouched in front of her, his expression concerned. “Want to tell me what’s wrong with you? You’ve been sitting here for at least five minutes, grunting and groaning zombie-style.”
But...but...only a few seconds had passed. Right? “I’m fine.” Her throat burned, as if she hadn’t used it for days, maybe weeks. She shook her head to scatter any lingering hints of lightness.
Biscuit and Gravy were seated at her side, calmly watching the warrior. For one crazy moment, Katarina imagined she felt their dislike for the man—stranger!—and their unbending determination to protect their silly human.
Frowning, Katarina held up her arms, turning her hands in the light. Her wrists were normal. There was no evidence of a wound, not even a bruise. She’d imagined the bite?
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Really.” Maybe she’d fallen asleep and dreamed the bite. Or hallucinated? Totally possible. She was semi-dating an immortal warrior. Weirder stuff happened every day. “What are you doing here?”
“I fixed lunch. My specialty. Ham sandwiches.”
Lunch? She hadn’t missed minutes, but hours. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Her stomach was too busy twisting into thousands of little knots.
“All right.” Galen stood with fluid grace. “I’ll put one in the fridge in case you change your mind. If I get hungry later, well, every man for himself. You had your chance.”
“You are too kind.”
“I know. And now that I’ve buttered you up...”
The meaning of the phrase eluded her. Buttered up? “Are you hitting on me?”
Galen wiggled his brows at her. “You wish. I’m hoping to convince you to talk to Baden about helping Fox deal with Distrust.”
“She’s having problems?”
“Only every day.”
Compassion stirred, but so did the memory of Katarina’s introduction to Galen. He’d threatened her. She said, “If you call me your sweet doodlepop from now on, I will consider thinking about maybe mentioning the woman to Baden.”
He grinned at her. “I hope you’re this way with the redhead...doodlepop.” He saluted her before exiting the room, sealing her inside with the dogs.
For the next several hours, she busied herself with the rest of the day’s training, determined not to think about what happened. Or what hadn’t happened. Whatever! When one of the boys began to pee or poop, she barked out a firm command to stop and escorted the two outside, offering a reward whenever they finished their business in the grass.
The house—palace—had a million rooms, every corner offering a new hallway to lose yourself, so she always stuck to the same path. A straight shot downstairs, through the kitchen, the laundry room and finally a sunroom. The backyard was fenced by a tall wall made of gold, steel and iron. The grass, bushes and array of flowers were perfectly manicured, and a myriad of trees provided shade from a glaring sun.
When training ended, she stayed outside, letting the boys run wild as she created a mental shopping list. Doggy door, organic food, tags for the collars, stronger leashes, urine neutralizer spray and toys.
—Toys—
The unfamiliar voice registered, along with the fact that the word had been spoken in a language she’d never learned or even heard before, and yet she’d understood it. Brows knitting together, she spun in a circle. No one stood around her.
But both dogs stiffened.
—Demon girl comes—
Again, the unfamiliar voice took her by surprise. This time, however, she realized the words had been spoken inside her head. But they didn’t originate with her and the only other beings with her... She looked at the dogs. No, no. Impossible...yes?
The dogs scurried in front of her as she pivoted. Biscuit growled at Fox, who opened the door and leaned against the frame, and Katarina actually felt his burst of anger. This is weirder than weird.
“You’re good with them,” Fox said.
“I love them,” she replied. It was as simple as that.
Both Biscuit and Gravy smiled up at her, as if they’d understood her words. Did they?
Fox rubbed her temple. “Do you love Baden? Wait. You know what? Never mind. Don’t answer that. I won’t believe you.” She laughed, the amusement tinged with bitterness. “The demon, you know.”
Katarina petted the boys behind their ears. “It comes with a heaping side of paranoia, does it?”
“If you knew the number of conspiracy theories I have running through my head at any given time...”
“Are you hoping Baden will take the demon back?” Because, even if he agreed to it, Katarina would fight tooth and nail to stop the repossession. The man had enough to deal with already.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
Compassion welled a second time. More than before. Katarina couldn’t do much to help the girl, but she could offer a distraction. “Since you’re here, I could use your help gathering a few supplies for the dogs.”
“Give me a list, and I’ll round up everything personally.”
“Wonderful.” She voiced everything she wanted. “But, uh, I also need a few personal items.” To begin her seduction—training—of Baden. “Like a masseuse.”
“Not a problem. I have one on staff.”
Even better. “Does he...she?...have a portable table?”
“He. And yes.”
A male. The best-case scenario. “I also need lingerie. A lot of lingerie, and make sure it’s super slutty. Something you’d imagine a prostitute would wear. High class! No, scratch that. Low class. Oh, and I need toiletries. Preferably vanilla scented. And condoms. A lot of condoms. Those don’t need to smell like vanilla. A swimsuit—do you have a pool? Never mind, doesn’t matter. A string bikini. Shouldn’t you be writing these down?”
—We fetch for you?—
An-n-nd there was the unfamiliar voice, louder and clearer than before. She peered down at the dogs. Both stared at her expectantly, waiting for her response.
Galen crouched in front of her, his expression concerned. “Want to tell me what’s wrong with you? You’ve been sitting here for at least five minutes, grunting and groaning zombie-style.”
But...but...only a few seconds had passed. Right? “I’m fine.” Her throat burned, as if she hadn’t used it for days, maybe weeks. She shook her head to scatter any lingering hints of lightness.
Biscuit and Gravy were seated at her side, calmly watching the warrior. For one crazy moment, Katarina imagined she felt their dislike for the man—stranger!—and their unbending determination to protect their silly human.
Frowning, Katarina held up her arms, turning her hands in the light. Her wrists were normal. There was no evidence of a wound, not even a bruise. She’d imagined the bite?
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “Really.” Maybe she’d fallen asleep and dreamed the bite. Or hallucinated? Totally possible. She was semi-dating an immortal warrior. Weirder stuff happened every day. “What are you doing here?”
“I fixed lunch. My specialty. Ham sandwiches.”
Lunch? She hadn’t missed minutes, but hours. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.” Her stomach was too busy twisting into thousands of little knots.
“All right.” Galen stood with fluid grace. “I’ll put one in the fridge in case you change your mind. If I get hungry later, well, every man for himself. You had your chance.”
“You are too kind.”
“I know. And now that I’ve buttered you up...”
The meaning of the phrase eluded her. Buttered up? “Are you hitting on me?”
Galen wiggled his brows at her. “You wish. I’m hoping to convince you to talk to Baden about helping Fox deal with Distrust.”
“She’s having problems?”
“Only every day.”
Compassion stirred, but so did the memory of Katarina’s introduction to Galen. He’d threatened her. She said, “If you call me your sweet doodlepop from now on, I will consider thinking about maybe mentioning the woman to Baden.”
He grinned at her. “I hope you’re this way with the redhead...doodlepop.” He saluted her before exiting the room, sealing her inside with the dogs.
For the next several hours, she busied herself with the rest of the day’s training, determined not to think about what happened. Or what hadn’t happened. Whatever! When one of the boys began to pee or poop, she barked out a firm command to stop and escorted the two outside, offering a reward whenever they finished their business in the grass.
The house—palace—had a million rooms, every corner offering a new hallway to lose yourself, so she always stuck to the same path. A straight shot downstairs, through the kitchen, the laundry room and finally a sunroom. The backyard was fenced by a tall wall made of gold, steel and iron. The grass, bushes and array of flowers were perfectly manicured, and a myriad of trees provided shade from a glaring sun.
When training ended, she stayed outside, letting the boys run wild as she created a mental shopping list. Doggy door, organic food, tags for the collars, stronger leashes, urine neutralizer spray and toys.
—Toys—
The unfamiliar voice registered, along with the fact that the word had been spoken in a language she’d never learned or even heard before, and yet she’d understood it. Brows knitting together, she spun in a circle. No one stood around her.
But both dogs stiffened.
—Demon girl comes—
Again, the unfamiliar voice took her by surprise. This time, however, she realized the words had been spoken inside her head. But they didn’t originate with her and the only other beings with her... She looked at the dogs. No, no. Impossible...yes?
The dogs scurried in front of her as she pivoted. Biscuit growled at Fox, who opened the door and leaned against the frame, and Katarina actually felt his burst of anger. This is weirder than weird.
“You’re good with them,” Fox said.
“I love them,” she replied. It was as simple as that.
Both Biscuit and Gravy smiled up at her, as if they’d understood her words. Did they?
Fox rubbed her temple. “Do you love Baden? Wait. You know what? Never mind. Don’t answer that. I won’t believe you.” She laughed, the amusement tinged with bitterness. “The demon, you know.”
Katarina petted the boys behind their ears. “It comes with a heaping side of paranoia, does it?”
“If you knew the number of conspiracy theories I have running through my head at any given time...”
“Are you hoping Baden will take the demon back?” Because, even if he agreed to it, Katarina would fight tooth and nail to stop the repossession. The man had enough to deal with already.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”
Compassion welled a second time. More than before. Katarina couldn’t do much to help the girl, but she could offer a distraction. “Since you’re here, I could use your help gathering a few supplies for the dogs.”
“Give me a list, and I’ll round up everything personally.”
“Wonderful.” She voiced everything she wanted. “But, uh, I also need a few personal items.” To begin her seduction—training—of Baden. “Like a masseuse.”
“Not a problem. I have one on staff.”
Even better. “Does he...she?...have a portable table?”
“He. And yes.”
A male. The best-case scenario. “I also need lingerie. A lot of lingerie, and make sure it’s super slutty. Something you’d imagine a prostitute would wear. High class! No, scratch that. Low class. Oh, and I need toiletries. Preferably vanilla scented. And condoms. A lot of condoms. Those don’t need to smell like vanilla. A swimsuit—do you have a pool? Never mind, doesn’t matter. A string bikini. Shouldn’t you be writing these down?”
—We fetch for you?—
An-n-nd there was the unfamiliar voice, louder and clearer than before. She peered down at the dogs. Both stared at her expectantly, waiting for her response.
