The Darkest Torment. Gena Showalter

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7

      “Dude. You should not have put a ring on it.”

      —Bianka the Terrible, Harpy from Clan Skyhawk

      KATARINA’S MIND THREATENED to shut down. Too much to process! She couldn’t have...how had...no, no, there were zero ways what she thought had happened could have actually happened. But truth was truth, and like any apex predator, it could defend itself. She’d traveled from one location to another in only a blink. Without taking a step. Without being carried. Without flying inside a plane or driving in a car. Just boom, the scenery had altered.

      Baden had been honest about his origins, hadn’t he? He really was immortal. And if he was immortal, he was also formerly demon-possessed—was now playing host to some kind of beast. A beast with an insatiable craving for violence.

      Her hand fluttered over her throat. He said he worked for Hades...who was the ruler of the underworld, according to mythology.

      Hello, vertigo. We meet again.

      “The coin,” Baden barked at Alek.

      Alek gave a violent shake of his head, the barrel of his gun wavering. “I don’t know where it is, someone must have stolen it.”

      “You lie. Unfortunately for you, I tolerate only one liar in my life.” Baden pulled a dagger from the sheath in his belt. How many other weapons were hidden on his body? “And Gideon is way better at it than you.”

      “Go to hell.” Alek squeezed the trigger. Pop! Pop! Pop!

      As Baden jerked from impact, Katarina covered her mouth to silence a scream. Anyone else would have fallen, but he didn’t flinch or even stumble.

      What he did? Stalk across the room and turn the gun while it remained in Alek’s grip. He pressed his finger over Alek’s and forced her miserable excuse of a husband to shoot himself in the shoulder.

      Alek—a mere human—toppled into his chair, blood spurting from his wound.

      Men banged at the door, but it was locked and barred from the inside. No one could enter. No one could help him.

      His own safety measures would aid his downfall.

      “Last chance,” Baden said, as calm as if they were discussing today’s lunch menu.

      Almost hysterically, she thought: Death with a side of pain.

      “I can’t give it to you.” Alek panted for breath. “I just can’t.”

      “You can. You choose not to, and you’ll forever regret it.” He dropped the gun on the desk and very slowly, very deliberately moved in front of Alek. He still held the dagger. “I am not a liar. I told you I’d take something else you value. Today, you lose a hand.”

      Alek tried to stand and run. Baden contained him easily and with a quick, downward swing, chopped through his wrist. Just—like—that. The hand plopped on the floor, and an agonized scream echoed from the walls.

      Slak to trafil! Baden had done it. He’d really done it. The viciousness of the action...the sight of the blood...the stench it released into the air... Katarina clutched her stomach.

      Baden wiped the dagger on Alek’s cheeks, leaving smears of crimson behind. “Get me the coin or tomorrow I’ll take a foot.” He returned the weapon to his belt before closing in on Katarina.

      She backed up. “What are you doing? You said we’d only spend one night together.”

      His gaze narrowed. “I hoped we’d part. I was wrong.”

      “I’m not going with you.” She couldn’t leave Alek a second time. He’d just lost a hand, he was in pain, and he would be enraged, violent; he would hurt her dogs just because.

      “I insist.”

      “And I pass.” She faked left and darted right, closing in on Alek. “Where are they?” Her voice cracked with desperation. In the back of her mind, she understood she’d just handed the immortal—and СКАЧАТЬ