The muscles in his jaw tightened. “It’s not what you think.”
Brown eyes found him and pleaded. “Torin, man. Cameo and Viola are missing. We don’t need a plague on our hands, too.”
“I haven’t touched her, but even if I had, you wouldn’t need to worry. She’s immune.”
“Good, that’s good, but she could still become a carrier, right? Let me escort her out of the fortress before any damage is done. She’s—”
“Fine. She’s fine.” Could she become a carrier? Cronus hadn’t said.
“She’s at risk right—”
“Just trust me, okay?” Torin bent down, grabbed the bags.
“Wait.” Reyes thrust the painting at him, forcing him to take it.
He did. Reluctantly. He didn’t want to know the future. He didn’t want to know if only doom awaited him.
Reyes rubbed two fingers across his stubbled chin, and said, “Danika painted the canvas last night, and I thought you’d find the finished product interesting. You’ll want to take a look. Trust me.” The warrior turned on his booted heel and stomped away. No doubt to inform the rest of the gang what was going on.
Gossips!
Torin shouldered the door closed and faced the girl. Her gaze was latched on the bags.
How long since she’d eaten?
He set the painting down and turned it around, facing the colored side toward the wall. One day, he’d look. But not today. He’d been waiting for this day forever it seemed.
He moved forward, crouched in front of the girl, and set a feast before her. She didn’t react immediately, was too busy taking everything in. “Go ahead,” he said. “It’s yours. Whatever you want.”
She reached out with a trembling hand and took one of the sandwiches. Her eyes closed as she bit into the bread, and she chewed slowly, as if relishing the flavors. Then, driven by a need she couldn’t control, she tore into the food with abandon.
“Slow down,” he said. “I don’t want you to get sick.”
She acted as if she hadn’t heard him, devouring every crumb, draining every drop of soda. He could only watch, fascinated. And spectacularly angry. Clearly, she had been starved.
“Where are you staying?” he asked. What he really wanted to know: Who was responsible for this?
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“At least tell me you’re over the age of eighteen.” She looked so young.
“I’m...not, I’m sorry. I’m seventeen.”
Disappointment hit him, and hit him hard.
She flattened her hand over her middle, those ocean blue eyes going wide. A moan of pain escaped her.
He arched a brow. “Too much too fast?”
She leaped to her feet, gasping out, “Help.”
“Bathroom is to the left.”
She raced into the small enclosure, and Torin stayed right on her heels. When she hunched over the toilet, he did something he’d never before done, even though, like now, he always wore gloves. He grabbed her hair and held it back. And just in time as she heaved the contents of her stomach.
When she finished, he released her and stepped back. “Why don’t you take a shower? Everything you need is in this room, even a change of clothes.” He kept a few shirts and sweatpants in here. He kept shirts and sweatpants everywhere, actually, always wanting to be covered, never wanting to risk exposing his skin to another’s touch.
A female had never worn his clothing before, and he kind of liked the idea.
But she’s only seventeen, and you aren’t a cradle robber.
Stupid Cronus, finding him a girl too young to touch.
At least, for now.
She remained slumped on the floor and wouldn’t look up at him.
“You’ll feel better, and then you can try eating again.”
“All right.”
“Do you need my help?”
“No. No,” she reiterated.
Thank the Most High. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted. “When you’re done, we’ll talk, all right?” He shut the door, sealing her inside.
Several minutes passed before he heard the water switch on. While she showered, he paced, waiting. Thinking. Twenty-four hours, she’d said. That’s how long he had with her. That wasn’t long enough.
He wanted to ask when she would turn eighteen. He wanted to drop to his knees and pray it happened during their time together.
Creepy much?
Surely she would not become a carrier of his disease. Cronus wouldn’t have sent him a carrier. The moment she was an adult, Torin could allow himself to touch her. It didn’t have to be sexual, either. They could hold hands.
To experience the warmth of another’s skin, the softness, the sense of connection, the tactile knowledge that he wasn’t alone...
He moaned at the heady thought.
A long while later, she emerged, a cloud of steam following her. Wet, her hair was dark, almost brown. She’d brushed it, but the strands had decided to curl. With the dirt scrubbed off her face, he could see the purity of her skin. Pale, like porcelain, with a slight tracery of veins. Flawless.
She wore his clothing, the material so loose it bagged on her.
“Thank you,” she said in that whispery voice.
“You’re welcome.”
He watched as she shifted uncomfortably, still not looking at him.
“I know I get twenty-four hours with you,” he said, “but I’d rather not take them consecutively. I’d rather spread them out. One hour a day, for twenty-four days. Would you be okay with that?” He could use the time to earn her trust, to get her talking and relaxed. Happy to see him. And maybe, if his luck was holding, she would want to keep seeing him.
Surprised baby blues landed on him. “But I thought...”
“What?”
“Never mind.” She bit her bottom lip, nodded. “Conditions allow for it, so, yes, I would prefer to come an hour a day for twenty-four days.”
His knees almost buckled. “Thank you.”
She nodded, saying, “Until tomorrow.” In a blink, she was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
JOSEPHINA HURRIEDLY STUFFED her meager possessions in a bag. A wad of cash she’d saved. A change of clothing. Her mother’s locket—one she never wore, too afraid someone would rip it from her neck.
Kane hadn’t left. His wedding was today, and she wasn’t going to stick around to watch. Maybe he’d go through with it. Maybe he wouldn’t. She had a feeling she would wonder for the rest of her life—and cry.
As she tied the bag closed, her stomach clenched. Tears beaded in her eyes, and she sniffed with frustration. Stupid tears! They came so often now. Ever since she’d met Kane.
I shouldn’t have kissed him that last time.
But she’d lost herself in the pleasure and the riotous sensations and the heat and the pressure and the need...everything. The past had fallen away. The desire to die, muted as it had become, had breathed its last. Kane had become her world, and she hadn’t wanted to ever be found.
And he’d wanted to stay with her, too. But...yeah. But: the word that had ruined everything. She’d had a choice. Be with him, risking the wrath of the king, or be without him, protecting him.
Protecting him had seemed more important than her desire—but only by the slightest degree.
One day, Kane might even thank her. Heck, he was already happy without her. He’d left the ball with Synda and though Josephina had looked for him, she hadn’t seen him since. She had no idea what had happened between the pair, but rumors were rampant. Kane had spent the night in her bedroom.
One of the tears spilled over, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
Whatever. Alone in the servant’s wing, Josephina tiptoed down the hall and peeked out the window overlooking the driveway. A line of carriages stretched down the road; each contained an Opulen probably bursting with eagerness to reach the royal gate. The wedding was set to begin any minute.
There was no be
tter time for escape. The servants were busy below. The king and queen were distracted. The guards had to watch the grounds to make sure the Phoenix stayed away.
“Seriously?” a voice said from behind her. “You’re actually running from me?”
She spun around and came face-to-face with a very angry Kane. He wasn’t wearing wedding finery. In fact, he looked...slovenly. He wore a wrinkled T-shirt that read Honey Badger Don’t Care, whatever that meant, and his pants were ripped in several places. His eyes were bloodshot, and thick lines of tension branched from his mouth.
“Why aren’t you in the human realm, or better yet, downstairs preparing for your nuptials?” she demanded, hating him, hating herself.
“You’re that eager to marry me off?”
She raised her chin, refusing to reveal the turmoil inside her. “You bedded the princess, didn’t you? I think you’ve got enough eagerness for the both of us.”
His features softened, making him appear boyish and hopeful and so lovely her chest hurt. “Do I detect a note of jealousy, Tink?”
“You certainly don’t! I don’t care what you do or what skank you do it with.”
A lie. She hated lies. What was wrong with her? Since meeting him, she’d become more than a crybaby. She’d become a shrew.
The softness vanished in a blink, and his eyes narrowed. “All right. Yeah. I slept with her. I also slept with a boatload of women before I even reached Séduire. But you know what? Synda was the best I’ve ever had.”
It was like a punch to the gut, a blow so low she wasn’t sure she would ever recover. Humiliation burned in her cheeks, and maybe it was fused with disappointment and fury. How could he! How could he go from Josephina’s kisses to Synda’s bed, and then brag about it?
The fury suddenly overshadowed every other emotion.
“Congratulations,” she said as drily as she was able. “You’re officially like every other man in this realm.” She had saved his life, and he had saved hers. Circumstances hadn’t allowed them to be lovers, but they could have been friends. She’d always wanted to be his friend. Yet he’d just ruined any hope for such an outcome. “I wish you’d stayed away from me. I wish I’d never met you.”
His features didn’t change, not this time, but his voice went low and quiet, dripping with disdain. “Too bad. I didn’t, and you did, and you have no one but yourself to blame. You should have left me in hell.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m about to do just that.” She tried to step around him.
He moved with her, blocking her. “You’re not going anywhere. Synda got into trouble last night and she’s earned another punishment.”
Josephina froze. “What did she do?”
“Does it matter?”
It had to do with him, didn’t it?
“You’re to be whipped.”
“No, no, no.” That would mean the king was searching for Josephina. She knew him. Knew he would actually postpone the wedding ceremony to find her, wanting the situation dealt with before placing Synda—and thereby Josephina—into another man’s care. And if he discovered she’d planned an escape... How could Kane be so cavalier about it? Shaking her head, she backed away from him. “How could you do this to me?”
“I didn’t want any of this to happen, Tink.”
“Don’t call me that! You don’t get to call me by a cutesy nickname when you just ruined my only chance for freedom.”
“You want freedom?” His volume increased with every word. “Well, then, I’ll get your freedom. Right now. Then, I’ll be leaving the realm, and so will you. But don’t worry. I won’t be with you, so you won’t have to fear my inability to protect you.” He extended his arm, intending to grab her.
She jolted out of reach. “I believe you can protect me, idiot, I just don’t want you hurt doing it. And if you do this, you’ll be hurt. They’ll hunt you. Forever.”
The sharpest edge of his intensity dulled. “Being hunted was something you were willing to risk, obviously. Do me a favor and allow me the same choice.”
She...had no response to that.
“I’ve thought about this, and thought about this, and I’ve nearly given myself a brain aneurism from thinking some more, and this morning I finally picked a plan and decided to stick with it. You’re not going to like it, but honestly? I don’t really care. I don’t like you within these walls, and I can’t deal with the demon any longer. I have to get out of here, and I have to kill him or I’m going to start hurting people, maybe even you. Again.”
He was rambling, without giving her any useful information. “You can’t just—”
“I can.” He lunged for her, latching onto her before she could get away, and draping her over his shoulder. A favorite position of his. At the moment of contact, breath exploded from her lungs. She kicked and hit at him, but he sped into motion without missing a beat. “Every woman I come across throws herself at me, but not you. You keep fighting me.”
“I’ll never stop!”
“That’s probably wise.” He took her through secret passages he shouldn’t have known about, up several flights of stairs, and into the daylight. “Why are you still wearing gloves? You know you can control your ability now.”
“Because my hands are ugly.” People had begun staring.
“Listen to me. Believe me. They’re not.”
She caught the scent of freshly cut grass and flowers, and the sound of murmuring voices...voices tapering to a quiet. Shock bombarded her, and she stilled. He wasn’t sneaking out. He was walking through the crowd of wedding guests. How could he...the courage such an act required...the utter stupidity!
“I told you I’d marry your daughter, and I will,” Kane called to the king. “That’s not going to change. But I want this one.”
What! Marry...Josephina? Despite their discord? No, that couldn’t be right.
“There’s two ways this can go down. You’ll either gain a connection to my family by giving Josephina to me—in marriage—or I’ll kill you here and now. Pick.”
Yes. Her. But...but...
I won’t let him. I’ll put a stop to it.
“No,” Leopold, standing behind the sputtering king, snarled. “You can’t—”
“Go with option two,” a male said with a laugh, interrupting him. “I’ll finally get to put my pimp hand to good use.”
She turned her head and watched as William, Red, Black, White and Green stepped into the gazebo where the royal family awaited the bride and groom. All five warriors were armed for war. Swords peeked over their shoulders. Guns were sheathed at their waists. And there were more men behind them! Men she recognized from the picture books the scribes had commissioned.
Oh, sweet lightning. The Lords of the Underworld were here. The frightful males were loaded with even more weapons than William and his crew. There was the scarred Lucien, the dark Reyes, the scary Sabin and the irreverent Strider.
Her heart sped into a faster rhythm. “Hi,” she called, and waved at Lucien. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve dreamed of this day all my life.”
His scarred features were pale, and there were bruises under his eyes. He looked as if he’d been without sleep for several centuries. “Your wedding?” he asked her.
“No, I’m not getting married. I’ve been waiting to meet you,” she said, her voice fluttering.
“All right, calm yourself,” Kane muttered. “And yes, you’re getting married.”
“Kane—”
He continued. “I didn’t want help, but I realized I needed it. There was no other way. But don’t you ever trust the Rainbow Rejects. They’re only aiding me now so they’ll have an easier shot at you later.”
“William, my darkling,” the queen gasped out. “What are you doing? You’re to be my protector.”
The king roared, “Darkling? You’re calling another male by my pet name?”
“Shut it, both of you,” William snapped, all humor gone. “We’ve heard enough out of you.”
The que
en’s mouth floundered open and closed, but she never made another sound.
Leopold stepped forward, but Red reached out and grabbed him by the neck, jerking him backward. In the next blink, a blade was poised at the prince’s hammering pulse and he was gurgling in pain, a bead of blood leaking to the fluffy collar of his dress shirt. He tried to speak, but the weapon prevented any sound from forming.
“But what about me?” Synda called, racing up behind Kane, her wedding dress not quite fastened. She had to hold up the beautiful Fae lace with her hands. And her veil was askew, about to fall out of her pale curls.
“Shut it, woman,” Kane snapped, mimicking William. “If I have to listen to one more bit of cruel, inane chatter from you, I’ll remove your tongue. I swear I will.”
Synda stopped, just stopped. No one had ever rejected her before—well, not for long. Bewilderment and hurt danced in her eyes, and Josephina almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She was too busy reeling. Kane had just put the girl in her place.
Red bloomed in the princess’s eyes as she marched through the sea of guests, throwing people out of their chairs.
The king blustered, saying, “This isn’t the way of things, Lord Kane. We should—”
“Pick,” Kane shouted. “I didn’t ask for commentary.”
Silence rolled through the masses, every gaze on Tiberius. The king switched his attention between Kane and his friends.
“Very well,” he finally gritted.
“Good choice.” Kane placed Josephina on her feet and glared down at her.
“Should I curtsy to your friends?” she asked to hide her nervousness. “I feel like I should curtsy.”
He leaned in until they were nose-to-nose. “You’ll accept this. Whatever you feel about me, whatever you believe about me, this is the best choice for you right now.”
A wave of dizziness struck her. “I can’t let you do this.” She needed to tell him something else, but...what? She couldn’t recall.
“Unlike your father, I’m not giving you a choice.” He turned to the male officiating the ceremony. “What are you waiting for? Begin.”
The priest obeyed him, but she didn’t hear a word he said. Her thoughts were too loud. Surely she couldn’t marry the very warrior that had slept with her half sister only last night. Surely she couldn’t allow him to welcome a lifelong war. Surely she wouldn’t bind her life to his, giving herself to him, while wearing a maid’s uniform, looking her worst.
Gena Showalter - [Lords of the Underworld 13] Page 25
