The Darkest Touch
Page 47
“Distract me,” she said.
“Okay. Who stole Pandora’s box after it was opened?” he asked. “You never told me.”
“And I won’t.” She’d heard the rumors, knew Torin was friends with the man. He might not believe her, might even take sides against her. “I don’t want to talk about the box.”
“Fine. We’ll play the question game. I’ll ask you ten easy ones or a single hard one. You pick.”
“Hard.” Of course.
“If seeing is believing, then how are looks deceiving?”
“Seeing isn’t believing. I thought you said this would be hard.”
“Yes, but how do you know seeing isn’t believing?”
“Sorry, Torin, but you said you’d only ask one difficult question. I’ve already answered.”
He laughed, shrugged. “I’m out of ideas.”
“Tell me what you were like before your possession.”
“Fierce. Bloodthirsty.”
“In other words,” she said, “nothing’s changed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m nice now.”
“What kind of crazy person told you that? You’re as nice as I am.”
“Since I think you’re made of sugar and spice, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But this isn’t the time to tease me, Keys. I’m close to shaking you so hard your brain knocks against your skull. Maybe that will finally knock some sense into you.”
“So nice,” she quipped.
He glared at her.
“Have you ever forgiven an enemy, wondered if their actions were an accident, like yours often are?” she asked.
“No.”
“And that doesn’t strike you as mean?”
“Fine! I’m mean. What does it matter?”
“Self-actualization is just one of the many services I offer.”
“I prefer my women silent.”
I’m his woman?
Stupid heart, skipping a beat.
“Maybe a bond with you would prevent another sickness,” she said softly. Don’t do this. Don’t go there.
Too late.
What if the bond helped her?
He stopped pacing to stare at her and curse. “Or maybe it would make you even sicker. A direct line to the demon? No.”
Hope, quickly dashed. Was he right? Would she suffer more this time around?
She finished her project and threw it at him. “I know, I know. I’m super talented and beyond thoughtful. You don’t know what you’d do without me. You’re welcome.”
He held the material up to the light. “What is this?”
“Only the best thing ever for a man with your particular ailment. A shirt with a retractable hood. That way you can cover your face during fights and not have to worry about your opponents accidentally brushing against your skin.”
“I don’t worry about that anyway. If my opponents aren’t killed by Disease, they’re killed by me.”
Yes, she’d seen his dagger work. “Well, I was your opponent and I’m still here.”
He offered her a half smile. “You’re right.”
“Always.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Had no one given him gifts before? “Say thank you, and put it on.”
“Thank you.” Motions swift, he removed his shirt and pulled the new one over his head, then anchored the hood in place.
“Well?” she prompted. “What do you think?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, princess, but I kind of feel like Batman.”
“Well, are you Batman? Has anyone ever seen the two of you in a room together to prove this—” she waved a hand over him “—isn’t your secret identity?”
He lifted the hood to glare at her, and she laughed. A ray of sunlight shot through the window as if purposely seeking her.
His expression softened with an emotion she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen from him. Tenderness, perhaps.
“Your eyes are glowing again,” he said.
“They are?” The laughter faded into breathless giggles.
“They are. And it’s lovely.”
Losing her amusement, she flattened her hand on her stomach, which was now roiling as if World War III were taking place inside it. “I...hurt,” she gasped out—and gagged. She placed a hand over her mouth, but there was no help for it. She hunched over and vomited.
* * *
TORIN RACED THROUGH the forest, his boots leaving deep impressions in the dirt. Anyone with a modicum of skill would be able to track him. Find me and die. Even the most powerful person in the world—if that was indeed what Keeley was—fell prey to Disease.
How could he have let this happen?
Again!
She wouldn’t last much longer. She needed a doctor, medicine.
Torin knew which plants would help her. Yarrow, elderberry flowers and peppermint would help with the fever. Ginger, chamomile, slippery elm, raspberry leaf, papaya and licorice root. All used to stop vomiting. So many options—and yet he could use none of them.
He’d studied the plants in his realm, not the ones in this realm. Were they the same? Different? Perhaps poison?
He had to find help.
He tracked multiple sets of ginormous footprints to a town with multiple buildings made of mud and straw, each a height and width that made the cabin look like a toddler’s punishment pen. There was a bar, a grocery, another bar, a— He wasn’t sure what that was. A pelt shop? The “fine leathers” looked to have come from humans.
“Okay. Who stole Pandora’s box after it was opened?” he asked. “You never told me.”
“And I won’t.” She’d heard the rumors, knew Torin was friends with the man. He might not believe her, might even take sides against her. “I don’t want to talk about the box.”
“Fine. We’ll play the question game. I’ll ask you ten easy ones or a single hard one. You pick.”
“Hard.” Of course.
“If seeing is believing, then how are looks deceiving?”
“Seeing isn’t believing. I thought you said this would be hard.”
“Yes, but how do you know seeing isn’t believing?”
“Sorry, Torin, but you said you’d only ask one difficult question. I’ve already answered.”
He laughed, shrugged. “I’m out of ideas.”
“Tell me what you were like before your possession.”
“Fierce. Bloodthirsty.”
“In other words,” she said, “nothing’s changed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m nice now.”
“What kind of crazy person told you that? You’re as nice as I am.”
“Since I think you’re made of sugar and spice, I’ll take that as a compliment.” He ran his hand through his hair. “But this isn’t the time to tease me, Keys. I’m close to shaking you so hard your brain knocks against your skull. Maybe that will finally knock some sense into you.”
“So nice,” she quipped.
He glared at her.
“Have you ever forgiven an enemy, wondered if their actions were an accident, like yours often are?” she asked.
“No.”
“And that doesn’t strike you as mean?”
“Fine! I’m mean. What does it matter?”
“Self-actualization is just one of the many services I offer.”
“I prefer my women silent.”
I’m his woman?
Stupid heart, skipping a beat.
“Maybe a bond with you would prevent another sickness,” she said softly. Don’t do this. Don’t go there.
Too late.
What if the bond helped her?
He stopped pacing to stare at her and curse. “Or maybe it would make you even sicker. A direct line to the demon? No.”
Hope, quickly dashed. Was he right? Would she suffer more this time around?
She finished her project and threw it at him. “I know, I know. I’m super talented and beyond thoughtful. You don’t know what you’d do without me. You’re welcome.”
He held the material up to the light. “What is this?”
“Only the best thing ever for a man with your particular ailment. A shirt with a retractable hood. That way you can cover your face during fights and not have to worry about your opponents accidentally brushing against your skin.”
“I don’t worry about that anyway. If my opponents aren’t killed by Disease, they’re killed by me.”
Yes, she’d seen his dagger work. “Well, I was your opponent and I’m still here.”
He offered her a half smile. “You’re right.”
“Always.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Had no one given him gifts before? “Say thank you, and put it on.”
“Thank you.” Motions swift, he removed his shirt and pulled the new one over his head, then anchored the hood in place.
“Well?” she prompted. “What do you think?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, princess, but I kind of feel like Batman.”
“Well, are you Batman? Has anyone ever seen the two of you in a room together to prove this—” she waved a hand over him “—isn’t your secret identity?”
He lifted the hood to glare at her, and she laughed. A ray of sunlight shot through the window as if purposely seeking her.
His expression softened with an emotion she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen from him. Tenderness, perhaps.
“Your eyes are glowing again,” he said.
“They are?” The laughter faded into breathless giggles.
“They are. And it’s lovely.”
Losing her amusement, she flattened her hand on her stomach, which was now roiling as if World War III were taking place inside it. “I...hurt,” she gasped out—and gagged. She placed a hand over her mouth, but there was no help for it. She hunched over and vomited.
* * *
TORIN RACED THROUGH the forest, his boots leaving deep impressions in the dirt. Anyone with a modicum of skill would be able to track him. Find me and die. Even the most powerful person in the world—if that was indeed what Keeley was—fell prey to Disease.
How could he have let this happen?
Again!
She wouldn’t last much longer. She needed a doctor, medicine.
Torin knew which plants would help her. Yarrow, elderberry flowers and peppermint would help with the fever. Ginger, chamomile, slippery elm, raspberry leaf, papaya and licorice root. All used to stop vomiting. So many options—and yet he could use none of them.
He’d studied the plants in his realm, not the ones in this realm. Were they the same? Different? Perhaps poison?
He had to find help.
He tracked multiple sets of ginormous footprints to a town with multiple buildings made of mud and straw, each a height and width that made the cabin look like a toddler’s punishment pen. There was a bar, a grocery, another bar, a— He wasn’t sure what that was. A pelt shop? The “fine leathers” looked to have come from humans.
