The Darkest Touch
Page 82
First Baden had been alone. Then he had ventured to Pandora’s side. Then Pandora had decided to sign up for Team Rhea, opposite of him. And now...now Baden had agreed to work with Cronus, a male he despised.
Soon after the girls had turned on Baden, he’d recruited the former king to his side. And, considering Baden had an in with Torin, and thereby the Red Queen, Cronus had been more than happy with the pairing.
As they worked alongside each other, Baden tried not to remember how many times Cronus had threatened his friends—and when threatening hadn’t been enough, moved on to torturing his friends.
What had the Red Queen once called the bastard? A Nephilim, descended from fallen angels. Baden had watched this Nephilim defeat the Greek rulers who’d once defeated him, and claim ownership of the lower level of the skies, then watched him lose his head to a demon-possessed girl.
And now he’s my only ally.
Wasn’t afterlife grand?
“We should have servants for this,” Cronus grumbled as he shoveled another scoop of dirt aside.
Sweat rolled down Baden’s back as the pain he’d been dealing with all day amplified. Worth it. “Well, we don’t. Deal with it.”
“Deal with it? You deal with it! I was born to give orders, not obey them. For that matter, I was born to lead, not to do manual labor.”
“Your station doesn’t matter after death, so shut up and shovel faster,” Baden commanded, anchoring a thick tree limb in the hole Cronus had created.
They’d been at this for hours...maybe days. Time wasn’t really time here. The past and future had long since collided with the present.
One by one, they’d sharpened countless limbs into spears, wrapped each one with a portion of the blood vine Baden had died eight times procuring, and placed the weapons around the perimeter of the vision-fog.
He shuddered with the memory of his deaths. The blood vines grew along the farthest edge of the realm, protected by poisonous foliage no one in their right mind would ever dare approach. He and Pandora had made the mistake only once, and it had been accidental. The pain the poison had caused...like nothing he’d ever experienced, in this life or the other. And it had lasted. A steady throb that had tormented for years.
Going back had been stupid—and wise. He’d had to endure another poisoning...was still enduring it.
Worth it, he reminded himself.
He had a plan. He—
The increase of the pain caused the sweat to begin pouring and his muscles to squeeze on bone, even breaking some. His lungs constricted, cutting off his airways. His vision blackened. But just as quickly as the throb had begun, it faded.
Another one would come, and soon.
“Hurry,” he snapped. They were almost done, but almost wasn’t good enough.
“You hurry,” Cronus snapped back.
“The girls will be here any moment.” Early this morning, he’d managed to push them both into a pit. But they’d get out soon enough. They always did. And then they’d come here. They’d want to know where Baden was so that they could exact revenge. “And since you’re a piss-poor fighter, I need all the help I can get.”
Cronus shook a spear at him. “Speak to me like that again and you’ll lose your tongue.”
“Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that.” Baden rolled his eyes. “You do know I’d just grow another one, right? And that’s assuming you’d manage to overpower me. Which you wouldn’t. While you were locked away in prison, I watched the world’s greatest warriors live and die. I learned from their mistakes. Then, after you escaped, I watched you. I know your strengths and weaknesses better than you do.”
“I have no weaknesses,” the former king snapped, moving out of the way so Baden could place the second-to-last spear in one of the holes.
Baden shoved the weapon into Cronus’s chest cavity instead. The male gaped at him, mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak. Screw alliances. He would do this on his own.
“Do you know where you went wrong?” Baden asked casually. He placed the other end of the spear into the ground, lifting Cronus off his feet and leaving him to dangle. “You allowed yourself to be distracted.”
“I could say the same about you.”
The voice had come from behind him. And the speaker had been unaware of the fact that Baden had been reaching for another spear the whole time he’d taunted Cronus. Baden twisted and hurled the pole at the woman, cutting her off midsentence.
He had not been distracted for a single second.
Impact tossed her back...back...until the spear embedded in a tree trunk, pinning her in place.
Like Cronus, Rhea had trouble articulating her shock.
Baden was grinning coldly as Pandora moved out of the shadows to stand beside the former queen.
“Impressive,” she said.
He knew the compliment was genuine and inclined his head in response. Tried not to let his chest puff with pride.
“I still have to hurt you for doing it,” she added.
“Of course. You may try. I expected no less.”
Stride steady, sure, she approached him. Daggers she’d carved from rocks and tree limbs were clutched in both of her hands. “You aren’t the same person I knew in the skies. The one beloved by his friends. You’ve changed. Do you think they’ll like the man you’ve become?”
It was a question he’d asked himself every day since the Red Queen had been found.
He liked to think they would. As hard, harsh and jaded as he’d become, so had they. But he’d once been the peacemaker. The one everyone went to for help with a problem.
Soon after the girls had turned on Baden, he’d recruited the former king to his side. And, considering Baden had an in with Torin, and thereby the Red Queen, Cronus had been more than happy with the pairing.
As they worked alongside each other, Baden tried not to remember how many times Cronus had threatened his friends—and when threatening hadn’t been enough, moved on to torturing his friends.
What had the Red Queen once called the bastard? A Nephilim, descended from fallen angels. Baden had watched this Nephilim defeat the Greek rulers who’d once defeated him, and claim ownership of the lower level of the skies, then watched him lose his head to a demon-possessed girl.
And now he’s my only ally.
Wasn’t afterlife grand?
“We should have servants for this,” Cronus grumbled as he shoveled another scoop of dirt aside.
Sweat rolled down Baden’s back as the pain he’d been dealing with all day amplified. Worth it. “Well, we don’t. Deal with it.”
“Deal with it? You deal with it! I was born to give orders, not obey them. For that matter, I was born to lead, not to do manual labor.”
“Your station doesn’t matter after death, so shut up and shovel faster,” Baden commanded, anchoring a thick tree limb in the hole Cronus had created.
They’d been at this for hours...maybe days. Time wasn’t really time here. The past and future had long since collided with the present.
One by one, they’d sharpened countless limbs into spears, wrapped each one with a portion of the blood vine Baden had died eight times procuring, and placed the weapons around the perimeter of the vision-fog.
He shuddered with the memory of his deaths. The blood vines grew along the farthest edge of the realm, protected by poisonous foliage no one in their right mind would ever dare approach. He and Pandora had made the mistake only once, and it had been accidental. The pain the poison had caused...like nothing he’d ever experienced, in this life or the other. And it had lasted. A steady throb that had tormented for years.
Going back had been stupid—and wise. He’d had to endure another poisoning...was still enduring it.
Worth it, he reminded himself.
He had a plan. He—
The increase of the pain caused the sweat to begin pouring and his muscles to squeeze on bone, even breaking some. His lungs constricted, cutting off his airways. His vision blackened. But just as quickly as the throb had begun, it faded.
Another one would come, and soon.
“Hurry,” he snapped. They were almost done, but almost wasn’t good enough.
“You hurry,” Cronus snapped back.
“The girls will be here any moment.” Early this morning, he’d managed to push them both into a pit. But they’d get out soon enough. They always did. And then they’d come here. They’d want to know where Baden was so that they could exact revenge. “And since you’re a piss-poor fighter, I need all the help I can get.”
Cronus shook a spear at him. “Speak to me like that again and you’ll lose your tongue.”
“Oh, no. Not that. Anything but that.” Baden rolled his eyes. “You do know I’d just grow another one, right? And that’s assuming you’d manage to overpower me. Which you wouldn’t. While you were locked away in prison, I watched the world’s greatest warriors live and die. I learned from their mistakes. Then, after you escaped, I watched you. I know your strengths and weaknesses better than you do.”
“I have no weaknesses,” the former king snapped, moving out of the way so Baden could place the second-to-last spear in one of the holes.
Baden shoved the weapon into Cronus’s chest cavity instead. The male gaped at him, mouth opening and closing as he tried to speak. Screw alliances. He would do this on his own.
“Do you know where you went wrong?” Baden asked casually. He placed the other end of the spear into the ground, lifting Cronus off his feet and leaving him to dangle. “You allowed yourself to be distracted.”
“I could say the same about you.”
The voice had come from behind him. And the speaker had been unaware of the fact that Baden had been reaching for another spear the whole time he’d taunted Cronus. Baden twisted and hurled the pole at the woman, cutting her off midsentence.
He had not been distracted for a single second.
Impact tossed her back...back...until the spear embedded in a tree trunk, pinning her in place.
Like Cronus, Rhea had trouble articulating her shock.
Baden was grinning coldly as Pandora moved out of the shadows to stand beside the former queen.
“Impressive,” she said.
He knew the compliment was genuine and inclined his head in response. Tried not to let his chest puff with pride.
“I still have to hurt you for doing it,” she added.
“Of course. You may try. I expected no less.”
Stride steady, sure, she approached him. Daggers she’d carved from rocks and tree limbs were clutched in both of her hands. “You aren’t the same person I knew in the skies. The one beloved by his friends. You’ve changed. Do you think they’ll like the man you’ve become?”
It was a question he’d asked himself every day since the Red Queen had been found.
He liked to think they would. As hard, harsh and jaded as he’d become, so had they. But he’d once been the peacemaker. The one everyone went to for help with a problem.
