Page 3 of The Darkest Touch


  In their world, strength mattered. And the way he'd just described himself...

  Sexy.

  No, not sexy!

  "Yawn," was all she allowed herself to say.

  "Yawn?" The bars rattled much harder. "Did you just yawn me?"

  "Just so you know, I've eaten warriors like you for breakfast."

  He didn't miss a beat. "Well, did you spit or swallow? Never mind. Don't answer. Your sexual kinkiness has no bearing on this situation. I'd appreciate it if you'd focus."

  Heat flamed her cheeks. "I wasn't talking about that!"

  "Hey, I'm not here to judge. I'm here because I'd hoped to--" He stopped, a palpable sense of amazement thickening air that never quite lost the stench of unwashed bodies and filth.

  What was going on? "You hoped to...what? Help Mari? Well, too late. You didn't. She's gone, and--" Keeley's chin quaked so violently she had trouble getting out her next words. "And someone has to pay. Several someones."

  "Trust me. I'm--" click... "--paying." The groan of rusty hinges accompanied the last word. Then...pounding footsteps sounded?

  She frowned, confused. Had he just--

  Escaped!

  Keeley jumped to her feet, the shiv falling from her hand. Torin stood in front of her cell, a backpack hanging from his shoulder. Oh...my. He was everything a girl could want--and more. Mercenary-tall and cold-blooded-killer honed. My favorite. My weakness.

  She'd gone centuries without seeing another person...without touching one. Why did Torin have to be so magnificent? His hair was snow-white, but his brows and lashes were night-dark, and the contrast was a sensuous delight. But, oh, his eyes...they were his most startling feature. They were the rarest of emeralds, intertwined with different shades of green, all without a single flaw.

  Nerve endings she'd thought long deadened stirred to life and tingled. Moisture flooded her mouth. The blood in her veins turned molten.

  Close the distance...touch him...

  Definitely not...well, maybe. There was a rip in the collar of his shirt, causing the material to gape over a massive, muscular chest completely healed from his impromptu self-surgery. Taste...

  "How did you escape an inescapable prison?" she demanded. I'm deprived. That's all. An aardvark would have had this effect on her.

  "A secret I forgot," he replied.

  "That's not an answer."

  "Wasn't meant to be." His gaze raked over her, the intensity of it staggering--aggression in its purest form. His pupils dilated, black quickly overshadowing green. The most exquisite eclipse. One caused by...lust? Did this bad boy find her attractive despite her oddities?

  The blood in her veins utterly boiled with desire.

  What about his crime?

  The boil tapered to a simmer. "You had best run while you can, warrior."

  "Or what, princess?"

  "I'll hurt you worse."

  He flicked his tongue over an incisor. Struggling for the tranquility he'd seemed to display so easily before? "I will warn you once. Only once. Never again threaten my friends. You do and I'll end you. I won't want to, and I'll even hate myself afterward, but I will do it. Do you understand?"

  Oh, yes. She understood. "You're even more of a protector than I'd realized."

  For a moment, she experienced a keen jealousy directed at his friends. They were loved by this man wholeheartedly, nothing held back. With Mari gone--razors in my chest, slashing at me--there was no one in the world who would defend Keeley. Not that she needed defending. I am, and will forever be, a powder keg without equal. But the gesture would have been welcome.

  He rattled the bars. "I said, do you understand me?"

  So fierce...

  She breathed in deeply; the leather and musk of his scent should have been a welcome reprieve from aeons of rank, but the goose bumps breaking out over her arms aggravated her. If he'd been any other man, she would have called the reaction animal attraction. But he wasn't. And if she'd possessed a weaker will, she would have given in to her craving and moved closer. She would have remembered how it felt to be a woman rather than a prisoner.

  But she was the Red Queen and she didn't possess a weaker will.

  She planted her feet and remained in place. The male disturbed her. Noted. There was no reason to make the situation worse by flirting with temptation.

  Such beautiful temptation.

  Nothing would stop her from avenging Mari.

  "Keeley," he prompted. "Pay attention to me."

  Orders? "Tell me what to do again and I will rip out your spine through your mouth."

  He didn't even blink. "That's harder to do than you probably realize."

  "Oh, I know. It takes experience--which I have. In spades."

  Again, not a blink. "Hubris is never a good look."

  "I'm not wearing hubris. I'm wearing truth." Calm. "Here is what I understand, warrior. Once I vowed to hurt anyone who hurt me, and I never lie. Especially to myself." She raised her chin, knowing she was the picture of stubborn female. "You, Torin, have hurt me."

  He sighed with dejection, and yet excitement glowed in his eyes. The juxtaposition confused her. "So we are to war?" he asked.

  She offered him a cold smile. "We're already warring, warrior."

  "In that case, I would be wise to kill you now."

  "Please. Try it." He'd have to open her door the same way he'd opened his own...something she'd attempted a thousand times. How did he do what I could not?

  He frowned at her. "You actually think a woman like you can defeat me?"

  A woman like her? What did that mean?

  Beads of anger rolled through her. "I've taken down bigger and better than you."

  "Bigger maybe, but better? Doubtful, considering there is no one better."

  Hubris certainly looked good on him. "Have you heard of Typhon, the supposed father of all monstrosities? Half dragon, half snake. All attitude. Zeus likes to brag about defeating him, but I am the one who ripped him into a thousand pieces and stuffed him under a mountain. And do you know why? Because he frowned when I walked past him."

  "Yawn," Torin said.

  Her spine went rigid. "You have underestimated your opponent. A fatal mistake many before you have made. You could ask them about the experience...but they are dead."

  His gaze shifted between the lock on the door and the wound on her arm. Finally he said, "You're mourning the loss of your friend. I'm going to give you a pass. This time. I won't give you another."

  Aw, did the big bad warrior think he was being nice? "You have a choice. Stay in this realm or leave. One day soonish I will topple this entire prison. The moment I do, I will come for you. If you have stayed, we will conclude our business here in this realm. You have my word. If not, I will hunt your friends and start with them."

  He punched one of the bars.

  Temper, temper.

  A shiver stole through her.

  "You can't win against me, Keys. Why put yourself through a battle?"

  She disregarded his familiarity, saying, "I suggest you use your remaining time alive setting traps for me." No matter what he did, he would lose. But the effort might make him feel better about the defeat to come. Or not. Probably not.

  His eyes narrowed. "Very well. Until we meet again...your majesty." With a final glare that, shockingly, rendered her breathless, he left the dungeon.

  *

  KEELEY WORKED AT a fiendish pace, cutting and carving at the final brimstone scar. This is for you, Mari.

  She would have finished already, but her mind had constantly drifted to Torin....

  Hate him!

  And yet she couldn't stop wondering if his white-blond locks were as soft as they appeared. Or if his wicked lips would be firm against hers or soft. Or if his bronzed skin would burn oh, so good, and the hard muscles beneath clench every time she touched him.

  A full-body shiver overtook her. Bad Keeley. Bad! But after everything she'd suffered, she deserved pleasure. And really, Torin owed her a little--


  No way. Not going there.

  Torin was forever off-limits, no matter how desperate she happened to be. He was pretty, there was no denying that, but she had to keep things in perspective. Look at Hades. A few inches taller than Torin, with a strength she'd never seen on another. His black hair was never not sexily mussed, and his midnight eyes always promised a wild carnal indulgence he was perfectly equipped to deliver. And yet Hades was just as likely to peel the skin from his bed partner as her clothing.

  Keeley, the queen who had never known affection, had been helpless against his appeal. She'd fallen for him. Hard. A sizzling romance had bloomed, spanning centuries.

  "You are so powerful, pet," he'd announced one day. "But that power is unstable. You could accidentally hurt me...unless we ward you and mute the worst of your abilities. Only then will I be safe from you. And I want to be safe. I want to spend my eternity with you. Don't you want that, too?"

  She had loved him, and she'd also agreed with him. Her powers had been unstable. Bad things happened every time her emotions had gotten the better of her--whatever the season, the weather had responded in kind. Tsunamis. Hurricanes. Polar vortexes. Tornados. Wildfires. If ever she'd harmed the male she was to wed, she would have wanted to die.

  When she'd pointed out he could be safe from her power by scarring himself with brimstone, negating her power over him specifically, he'd pointed out that his people would never be safe, and she couldn't expect everyone under his command to go to such lengths, now could she?

  So reasonable.

  Such a manipulator.

  Hades, the fiercest warrior in existence, the male with hundreds of demon armies at his command and quite literally the ex from hell, had feared her power had become greater than his own, nothing more and nothing less. He simply hadn't been able to bear it.

  But the scars weren't even the worst of his crimes. After he'd weakened her, he'd sold her to Cronus--for a barrel of whiskey.

  There are two things I'll never forget. The crimes committed against me--and my power. And Hades is going to pay so hard. She planned to cut off his head and scoop out his brain. I'm thinking pumpkin innards at Halloween. She would set up a booth in the lowest level of the skies and allow everyone he'd ever wronged to come and use his skull as a toilet.

  In a word: magical.

  Keeley hissed as the shiv came out the other side of her arm. Unsteady, she set the weapon aside and lifted the newly shaved hunk of branded skin. As blood leaked to the floor, she studied her arm in the light. Would this last scar return?

  She waited, one minute ticking into another. Her skin wove back together--without scarring! She'd...done it? Succeeded?

  It couldn't be....

  She pressed a hand to her chest where her heart hammered erratically. I'm me again? Centuries of work, finally finished? She lumbered to her feet, expecting a sudden surge of power to hit her any...second....but there was nothing.

  Miss it so much.

  She also expected an overwhelming sense of triumph but...she didn't feel that, either. Resolve filled her up, leaving no room for anything else. There was so much more for her to do. Kill Torin. Kill Cronus. Kill Hades.

  Mourn Mari.

  She stuffed the hunk of skin she'd just removed into the pocket of what remained of her gown. My trophy. She would have to be careful not to touch it since the brimstone would weaken her upon contact. But she also couldn't discard it and allow just anyone to find it and perhaps use it against her.

  She walked to the bars of her cell, each step more confident than the last, her mind clearer. She attempted to push out the barest stream of power--the metal widened instantly.

  I really am me again. Giddy anticipation replaced her resolve, and without pausing in her steps, she picked up Wilson.

  "If you had stayed with me," she told him, "I would have protected you. Now? Forget about it." With a squeeze, she turned him to dust and focused on Mari's cell. Another stream of power caused those bars to widen, as well.

  The enclosure was the same size as Keeley's, the walls smoother and unmarked by blood. In the center was a coffin-sized mound of dirt.

  Anger shot through her--and as it did, bolts of lightning exploded from her pores, crackling all around her. Yes! This! A second later, she was yanked off her feet by a gust of wind, her skin sizzling deliciously and her blood fizzing as she hovered in the air.

  The entire dungeon began to shake, dust and debris raining from the ceiling. All too soon, the havoc was too much for the aged walls to bear. They crumbled, one by one, the bars of the door bending, then crumpling, the ceiling cracking, then falling.

  Not a single piece of rock or concrete dared brush against her.

  Calm...steady...don't want to destroy the entire realm.

  Not yet anyway.

  Deep breath in...out.... The shaking slowly faded, then stopped, the dust gradually clearing. Keeley floated down, down, the dungeon nothing but a heap around her. She landed on a boulder, wind whipping at her hair.

  Closing her eyes, she basked in her first taste of freedom in forever. The sun peeked out from behind a wall of clouds, stroking her face despite the winter chill. Glorious.

  The snap of a twig echoed, and she stiffened, scanning the forest surrounding her. Blackened trees, scorched ground. Wafts of smoke and ash.

  Welcome to the Realm of Wailing Tears, where happiness comes to die.

  When it rained without the aid of Keeley's emotions, it rained, waterlogging the entire realm. She'd lost track of the number of times she'd nearly drowned inside her cell.

  Once the home of Cronus, currently the home of the Unspoken Ones, a race of creatures so bloodthirsty and vile hardly anyone dared speak their name.

  And yet the Unspoken Ones fear speaking my name.

  She grinned, and knew anyone looking on would think she was pure evil. They would be correct.

  Poor Torin.

  She'd made sure he would do anything to remain behind, if only to end her to save his friends from her crazy. Which meant he was out there somewhere, waiting.

  Anticipation...

  Can't get excited. This was business.

  Bloody, bloody business.

  An idea formed. Soon, Hades would send his minions after her. Every few weeks, they arrived to check on her and ensure she remained a prisoner. Watching them munch on Torin could be fun. He would experience writhing agony, and they would sicken. Then she could remove each of their heads.

  The ideal end to so many of her enemies. It's decided.

  Okay. There was no help for it. I'm excited.

  CHAPTER THREE

  DUDE. THE RED QUEEN, Torin thought, incredulous. No wonder the immortals in the skies had merely whispered about her. Insane? Cruel? Hell, yeah. They'd probably assumed saying her name aloud would have a Beetlejuice effect and actually summon her.

  Now, at least, he understood the title. With such power, she could kill entire armies in a snap and then some. And this is the female who threatened my friends. My only family.

  Seriously. Duuude.

  The demon shuddered.

  Hidden by gnarled tree limbs that were covered with thorns and brittle leaves that snapped at him with actual teeth, Torin watched Keeley from a distance, like a creeper, completely dumbfounded by her. She'd stood in place as hunks of the dungeon rained around her, and not a single injury had she sustained. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Her arm was a wreck. But still. She'd brought the prison tumbling down, just as she'd claimed, and she hadn't seemed to lift a finger to do it.

  What else could she do?

  Something stirred within him. The same fierceness he used to feel on the battlefield. The very sensation he'd once lived for--and had never thought to have again.

  He smiled.

  Idiot! This was one battle he may not be able to win.

  Could anyone? Had he not freed the other prisoners on his way out, every single one of them would have died today. Would she have cared?

  Definitely
not.

  Speaking of the prisoners...one of the males had been familiar to him. Emaciated, but familiar, rousing a sense of anger inside him. Torin had been unable to place him--or later, to find him.

  Not that it mattered anymore. He had a bigger threat on his plate. In more ways than one.

  He'd lost track of the number of times he'd almost gone back for Keeley. Not to hurt her or yell at her as he should have wanted, but simply to see her again, to tease her. To beg for her forgiveness. To prove she wasn't as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as he remembered. To end the stupid tugging, an invisible cord constantly urging him closer. To just...be with her.

  How stupid was that?

  I have to kill her.

  A pang of remorse ripped through his chest as he pictured the powerful, courageous beauty dead in a grave.

  Damn it! He shouldn't feel conflicted about her fate. And he shouldn't have to remind himself of her threat against his family.

  Time for a little negative reinforcement. Torin circled his fingers around the thick tree branch at his side, granting the foliage permission to feast on him.

  Razor-sharp teeth grazed his skin, and blood dripped from his hand. The leaves erupted into a feeding frenzy like piranha, leaving nothing but bone. Hurt like hell as he pulled his arm away. He didn't have to worry about the plant spreading the illness--it would die within the hour.

  As he healed, he studied Keeley more intently. Two things became uncomfortably clear. The negative reinforcement hadn't helped, the desire to slay her remaining curiously absent. And a desire to throw her down in a test of strength grew. A test of strength--that was all.

  Her eyes were wide and sensuously uptilted as if forever beckoning the men around her to bed. Strip me, they said. Do anything you want to me.

  Though her hair was caked with dirt and tangled, the strands glinted brilliant cobalt-blue in the muted sunlight. Her lips were red, erotically plump, the kind women were willing to pay a fortune to have...and men were willing to pay a fortune to have all over them. Her skin was flawless, as pure as ice, and also tinted blue.

  Extraordinary. A living, breathing Sugar Plum Fairy, Dungeon Edition.

  Cue the porno soundtrack.

  He groaned. Not this. Anything but this.

  Centuries ago, Torin had spent the bulk of his time screwing every woman he met--in his mind. And he'd been good. A god among men. Nothing like the too-rough soldier who'd been unable to seal the deal. He'd taken his lovers against walls, bent over coffee tables and on the ground as wild as an animal, and they'd loved it.