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.
A male with piercings all over his face entered the farthest building on the right. The sign outside it read Heeling Tonacs & Xotic Elicksirs. There. That's where he needed to be. The misspellings instilled zero confidence, but what other choice did he have?
Torin fit his new hood in place--his chest constricting as he remembered how diligently Keeley had worked on it--and launched into motion, urgency driving him. He remained in the shadows as a horde of giants strode down the street. He managed to get to the proper porch without being noticed. Or giving himself a hernia when he opened the massive front door.
"--get the warts off," Piercings was saying. "I'll pay twenty pounds of diamonds." He dropped a black velvet bag on the counter in front of him. "And you'll get twenty more if you never speak a word of this."
"I have just the thing," replied a man--surely the pharmacist--who was covered in tattoos. "But it'll cost you forty pounds of diamonds."
Um, that's what the guy had offered.
"Thirty," Piercings said.
"Done!" Tattoos replied.
Seriously? This is where I'm to find help?
Torin wasn't in the mood to waste time or negotiate. As quietly as possible, he turned the lock on the front door and switched the sign to Closed. He knew his own limitations, knew he couldn't fight two giants at once without severe consequences, and considering the pelt store down the road, there was a good chance this pair of fine fellows would want to skin him; he was going to have to take one of them out.
He moved forward, stopping just behind Piercings. The top of his head came to the middle of the giant's back. He palmed the blade he'd taken from the cabin, bent down and sliced through the male's Achilles tendons.
A howl of pain echoed from the walls. Piercings dropped to his knees, and the entire building shook. Torin reached around and slit his throat.
The lifeless, bleeding corpse slumped to the floor.
Torin stared up at Tattoos. "I hated to do that, and I apologize if he was your friend, but as you can see, I'm willing to do anything to get what I want."
Tattoos narrowed his eyes. "And what is it that you want, human?"
"I'm not human. And I want a concoction for a friend who's feverish and won't stop vomiting blood." He plowed ahead as if the guy would do what he demanded--because he totally would. "If you give me something poisonous to punish me for what I did to the other guy and my friend suffers or dies, I'll come back for you. I won't kill you right away. I'll play with you first...until you beg me for the sweet kiss of death."
Far from impressed, Tattoos leaned forward and gripped the edge of the counter separating them. "You assume you'll leave this shop alive."
Grinning coldly, Torin sheathed the weapon at his side. Then, he began to tug at the fingers of his gloves. "I want you to know, you chose this path. I didn't. So. Here's what is going to happen next. I'm going to touch you, and you're going to be infected with the same disease that's killing her. Did I forget to mention I'm Torin, the keeper of the demon of Disease? Once you develop symptoms, and you will, you'll mix yourself a concoction, hoping to save yourself. You'll be too weak to stop me when I take it from you."
Tattoos paled beneath his ink and took a step backward. The shelf walls stopped him from retreating farther. "You're lying."
"You'll find out, won't you?" Torin stuffed the glove into his pocket and pulled at the other one. "Once I have what I want, I'll leave and shout that you're in need of help. Your friends will rush inside. They'll touch you, and they, too, will become infected. A plague will sweep through your world, and thousands will die. All this because you refused to help the Red Queen."
That male's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "You're an emissary of the Red Queen?" Suddenly he had trouble catching his breath. "I heard a rumor she had returned... Didn't want to believe... Yes, yes, of course I'll do anything to help her most exalted majesty. Please tell her how eager I was to offer my services." He raced around the shop, gathering vials.
What, exactly, had Hurricane Keeley done in this realm?
Five minutes later, Tattoos offered Torin a large canteen filled with a dark pungent liquid. "This will soothe her."
"I wasn't kidding. If it harms her, I will be back. If you run, I will find you."
"No harm. I swear! Have her swallow a single mouthful three times a day. It's not a magical cure," Tattoos rushed to add, "but it really will help. If she dies, it won't be my fault. Make sure she knows I did everything I could."
If she dies...
Those words haunted Torin as he retraced his steps through the forest. If she died, it wouldn't exactly be the giant's fault.
Well, she couldn't die. She just couldn't. Not because he'd once again fallen prey to a friendship he should have avoided. And not because she amused and delighted him and revved him up in a way no other woman ever had. But because the world would be a dark, dark place without her.
She truly was a light.
I won't be the one to snuff her out.
His hands fisted, and the canteen he held nearly popped. Careful.
In the cabin, the scent of blood had yet to dissipate. He wasn't sure whether it came from the spiders or from Keeley, who remained sprawled on the couch. Sweat poured from her, causing strands of hair to stick to her face. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, her lips chapped from being chewed.
I did this. Me.
Leaving her in this condition, alone, unable to fend for herself, had agonized him. The tonic had better be worth it.
Her eyes were closed, her head thrashing from side to side. "Daddy, please. I don't want to stay with the king." A procession of dry heaves. "You gave me to him--now help me leave him. Please! I can't... Just can't take any more...."
Her own father had given her to a male she despised? A male who'd clearly hurt her. Bastard!
Torin paused as guilt, rage and sorrow tangled up inside him, a special cocktail he drank daily. What a hypocrite he was. He had hurt her more than anyone else ever could.
He double-checked to make sure he'd returned the gloves to his hands before smoothing the hair from Keeley's face. "I'm back, princess," he said. "I'll protect you with my life, even from your memories."
Her chest rose and fell in quick succession as she writhed against the cushions. "I spoke to no one today, I swear. Please, don't kill her, Majesty. Please. She has a family. She-- Noooo!" Sobs. More dry heaves.
"Shh, princess. Save your strength." Torin draped a cold rag across her brow before stroking the corners of her blood-splattered mouth with his thumbs. "Everything's going to be okay."
Her lips parted, just the way he'd wanted, and he poured a mouthful of the tonic down her throat. A gagging fit would have caused the liquid to spill out, so Torin forced her to swallow by applying pressure to her jaw and massaging her throat. Cruel to be kind. One of the most difficult things he'd ever done.
She beat at his hands, but her efforts were wasted. As weak as she was, she couldn't have shooed a fly.
So much power inside her, he thought, and yet still she was so fragile.
He waited for any sign of improvement. Instead, she worsened. Blood gur
gled from her mouth, choking her, which led to another spell of vomiting. He wasn't sure how much medicine she kept down.
Damn it!
The demon laughed, gleeful over the turn of events.
Helplessness...hatred. Wish you were dead.
The laughter only grew louder.
"Hades," Keeley suddenly shouted. "Help me."
Torin pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. "Torin's here, princess."
"Torin..." At last Keeley calmed and slipped into what seemed to be a peaceful sleep. Torin dragged the dead spiders outside the cabin. The snow had stopped falling, and the sun had stopped shining. The sky was just...gray.
A sign of impending doom?
No!
When he had all eight bodies and their various severed parts in a pile, he lit a match and threw it in the center of the carnage. It wasn't long before the flames spread, and dark smoke curled through the air, carrying the pungent scent of charred flesh. The creatures had slashed through his skin, and even though they were already dead, he didn't want Keeley coming into contact with them when she awoke.
And she would. He had to believe it. Because the thought of going a single day without her was suddenly intolerable.
*
BETRAYED BY HADES, the only man to ever claim he loved her? No. Impossible.
"Torin's here, princess."
Torin...her new man.
But...he can't be here. I'm trapped. Alone.
Keeley struggled between memory and reality...wasn't sure which won...only knew it was impossible to create order from chaos and if she failed to clear her thoughts...
...She was pacing the confines of a chamber, her heart utterly shattered. Hades's men had come for her an hour ago, locking her inside the smallest, sparsest bedroom usually reserved for the lowliest of servants. Her betrothed couldn't know she was here. Even though his soldiers did nothing without his express permission.
She should have been able to fight her way free of their hold, but her new wards prevented her from doing anything.
How had this happened?
She remembered how Hades had given her a special wine to put her to sleep so that she wouldn't experience any pain when the brimstone touched her. How one of his minions had stood by, ready to give Keeley a single ward, one to temper the worst of her power, so that Hades and his people would be safe around her.
But Keeley had woken up alone, with hundreds of wards, weakened, unable to do much more than breathe.
Hades would kill the minion when he found out what had been done to her. Surely he wouldn't have ordered this. He loved her and would never purposely hurt her.
"Hades," she screamed for the thousandth time. If she kept this up, she would lose her voice. "I need you!"
Finally he appeared, flashing into the center of the room.
He was a beautiful man with dark hair and eyes--eyes that pulsed with red any time he considered making a kill. He was six foot seven and lofty. But he wore it well. He had the strength to back up the attitude. Women everywhere desired him. But he chose me.
"I trust your new accommodations are comfortable," he said.
He was so casual....
He knew.
A deep wound cut through all the scattered pieces of her heart. "Why? Why did you do this?"
"You were too powerful. If ever you turned on me--"
"I would never have turned on you!"
He plowed ahead, saying, "--I could lose everything I'm trying to build."
"Keeley."
She frowned. The newest voice belonged to a male, but not to Hades.
"It's time for more medicine, princess."
Torin's image filled her mind, overshadowing the confines of the hated chamber...the hated memory. She saw his shoulder-length white hair. His catlike green eyes. The smoldering sexiness that always made her mouth water. Like now. Ugh! That was a lot of water. An embarrassing amount. Choking her... Can't breathe, have to breathe...
"Swallow."
Cool liquid washed down her raw, shredded throat and into her equally raw stomach.
"Good girl," he said.
Something warm smoothed across her overheated brow, offering comfort. Not his hand. Surely not. He refused to touch her.
Touch her. The words resonated in her mind, prodding her. He hadn't touched her, not at first, but she had touched him. Then he had grabbed her and given her the hottest kiss of her life. She'd become sick. Horribly sick. All because of his demon.
That's right. The demon.
Hate that demon.
Anger burned through her, hot, so hot, and the cushion beneath her began to shake.
Will murder that demon.
"Not this again," Torin muttered. A second later, she was floating--how? why?--but still the shaking continued.
The sound of clattering dishes registered. Thumping logs.
Oh, yes, she thought coldly. Disease will suffer for all he's done....
Torin cursed, and she went tumbling. She...rolled down a hill? Grass and dirt filled her mouth. Dizziness struck her.
When she stilled, she struggled to pry open her eyes. Had mud been smeared across her eyes? She blinked, Torin coming into view. The real Torin, looming over her.
His smile was grim. "Welcome back, princess."
CHAPTER TWELVE
TORIN REELED. Keeley had survived another illness, and as quickly as she'd sickened, she had recovered. Within an hour of destroying the cabin, in fact, she was steady on her feet, totally racer ready, with no lingering side effects.
The first time, he'd understood. Others had recovered, too, even if they'd become carriers. But this second time...
How had she survived? He'd asked for her opinion, and her answer had been the usual, "Hello. Red Queen. Super powerful."
Maybe. Probably.
Would she survive a third? A fourth?
Considering the bargain they'd made, she might be willing to risk it. But he wasn't. Not anymore.
Heard that before.
Yeah, but I mean it this time.
Motions clipped, he led her through the forest. He remained on the lookout for vengeful giants. Dust from the ruined cabin trailed them. Keeley stayed behind him, quiet, and the silence unnerved him.
"Do you hate me?" he asked.
"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"
"Do you seriously have to ask?"
"Obviously. Because I did."
"The demon," he said on a sigh. "The vomiting."
"Um, perhaps you're forgetting I touched you."
No. He hadn't forgotten--would never forget. Her touch had proven just how base his need for her could become, how consuming...how, when he finally got his hands on her, nothing mattered but pleasure.
"Let's not talk about that." He searched for someplace safe to make camp, and when he thought he picked up the sound of footsteps he backtracked, checking for prints he never found.
Desire must be rotting his brain.
And, damn, the hot and sticky air had to be baking his insides. The weather had gone from autumn, to winter, to just plain hell, but he didn't think it had anything to do with Keeley. Her mood did not match the million-degree temperature.
"I'm eighty-sixing my shirt. Don't come within ten feet of me until I put it back on." He wrenched the material over his head, then draped it around his neck to catch the sweat trickling down his temples. "I mean it."
Keeley raked her gaze over his naked torso, and damn if it didn't feel like a caress. "You suck so bad," she grumbled. Maybe her mood did match. "I'm overheated, too, you know. I think my internal organs have become some kind of stew." She ripped the sleeves from her shirt and threw them at him.
Her sleeveless state made him think about the way she'd studied her arms and legs when she'd first woken up. Whatever she'd seen--or hadn't seen--had relaxed her. When he'd asked her why she'd done it, she'd said, "Like I'm really going to give you any ideas."
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
"St
upid double standards," she said. "If I were to remove my top to cool off, I'd be a tease, just begging for ravishment."
"Cool your jets, princess. I'd never make you beg." But isn't that exactly what I've done?
"Are you saying you'd just give it to me for free?" she asked.
"I'm not saying anything." If this kept up, they would end up where they'd started. In trouble. "But why risk insect bites? Let's find you a coat. Maybe a fur one."
"As if any insect would dare come near me."
"Still. Can't hurt to be careful." He dug inside the backpack. "I know we've got an extra top in here somewhere."
"Try to make me wear it and I'll tie you down, cut you open and let the animals use your organs as snack packs!"
"Everyone's got to eat." He pulled his empty hands out of the pack. "Unfortunately, we're out of clean clothes."
"Why don't I peel the skin from your body? You can be my coat."
"Smart. You'll stay warm during the next snowfall."
She stomped her foot. "My inability to rile you is maddening."
"I'll yell at you if it'll make you feel better." Hell, it might make him feel better, too.
She perked up, saying, "That would be extremely helpful, thank you."
He thought for a moment, shouted, "How dare you bare your arms in public! You're damn right it makes you a tease. It gives a man ideas. Makes him think you're good at carrying heavy boxes--which just happens to be his job! It's humiliating is what it is."
She laughed, and her breasts jiggled. Breasts he'd held in his hands. Her nipples were hard, probably aching, needing to be pinched and sucked.
Turn away! Now!
He didn't. Couldn't.
Keeley's laughter died, and quiet settled over them.
"Torin," she whispered.
"No," he said, and when she licked her lips, he forced himself to say it again. "No."
A twig snapped, signaling an end to their solitude.
Thank God. Torin palmed one of the blades he'd managed to dig from the cabin's rubble.
"Hide behind that rock." He scanned the forest, trying to ferret out any clue about their unwelcome guest. Or guests. Human, animal, or giant? Or a combination of all three?
Keeley glanced at the rock in question and scowled. "The Red Queen does not hide."
"She does when she's not wearing gloves. Don't forget, you're a carrier. Besides, you've been ill. You need to conserve your energy. And what if your emotions get the better of you? It'll probably be best if we don't destroy the entire realm while we're still in it."