The Darkest Torment
Page 18
Torin stopped typing long enough to give him the look. “Did I mention you suck? Females like to be romanced and you, my friend, are clearly romanerexic.”
As Destruction kicked up a fuss—I can be romantic!—Baden muttered, “I’ve got to go.” He stormed out of the room.
He had half an hour before the date was set to begin. He would return to Downfall. Would he still be able to flash there, without Taliyah? If not, well, he would find a way. There was always a loophole. While there, he would pick a thousand fights with the immortals, and he would exhaust the beast.
Then...Katarina would be his.
12
“When a girl says ‘Go have fun,’ do not go have fun. Abort mission!”
—Scarlet, keeper of Nightmares
I THINK I’M going to train a beast so evil his name is Destruction?
I’ve lost my mind. That’s the only explanation.
As a hard knock echoed through the bedroom, Katarina smoothed trembling hands over the dress the beautiful Anya had given her—aka a sure thing—and remembered the goddess’s sage advice.
You gotta talk less and bang more. Don’t be afraid to withhold sex as punishment. And don’t be reminding him of all that shitty stuff he did. Seriously. Hide nothing, but make sure you keep all your secrets. Never lie. If you want to have a little fun, threaten to leave, then—surprise—don’t leave. Oh, and most important, if he messes up, never let him forget it.
Did the woman know how many times she’d contradicted herself?
Another knock, and Katarina’s heart performed a series of flips. There was no reason to be nervous. If the date failed, the date failed. No harm, no foul.
Chin high, she opened the door. Baden leaned against the frame, and oh, wow, one look at him made her drunk with desire, her veins fizzing as if filled with champagne.
He’s going to be mine.
He’d brushed his red hair from his face and fit his big, muscled body in a black T-shirt and biker leathers.
Sweet...carnal...perfection.
He had a handful of cuts on his brow and jaw, and his knuckles were bruised, but the injuries only added to the bad-boy appeal.
She wanted everything he had to give. His kiss, his touch, his body sliding into hers.
The breathtaking desires...depressed her. She was moving on with her life while her dogs rotted in their graves.
A wave of grief...a hollow ache.
Baden sensed the change in her and drew her against him, his uncompromising strength enveloping her. “I’ve got you, Rina. I’m here.”
She basked in the comfort he gave so easily, and the ache eventually vanished.
Great! My “weakness” is showing. She pulled back, embarrassed, and licked her lips. Let’s get this date on track. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I look amazing. But I’m already wanting to 127 Hours my feet. These heels are mountains!”
He barked out a laugh, the sound so rusty she knew he hadn’t made it often. “Aren’t you supposed to compliment me?”
“No way. Ladies first.”
His gaze raked over her slowly, heating, his lids growing heavy. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t deserve a compliment. I’m unworthy of your exquisite beauty.”
What a compliment! The ache returned, but this one was different, hot and glorious...throbbing. Peter had praised her often, but she’d taken every “Looking at you is the reason I exist” for granted. Never again.
“Thank you.” I won’t fall into his arms before dinner. Well, not again. “And Baden...you deserve a thousand compliments. You are a feast for my eyes, and no other man can compare.”
Because he wasn’t a man, she reminded herself. He was immortal, and life and death meant different things to them. And that was okay. They weren’t trying to forge a forever-after bond here. They were temporary.
At this stage in her mortal existence, a little fun was all she wanted, all she needed.
His amusement drained fast and sure.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, unsure where she’d gone wrong.
“You think me beautiful.”
The problem? “I do.”
“The beauty is only on the outside.”
“That’s not true. I see beauty inside you, too.”
He searched her features, as if he couldn’t quite believe her claim but could think of no way to refute her. With a sigh, he held out a gloved hand. She craved skin-to-skin contact more than water or wine to drink, but she kept her disappointment in check and twined her fingers with his.
Contact hurt him, he’d said, but he wasn’t sure if the problem was mental or physical. Her guess? Physical. Sometimes, when a dog spent the bulk of his life chained up outside with very little human contact—see Katarina turn into a momma bear—his fur became overly sensitized.
If she was right, Baden needed contact. It was the only way to desensitize him. But she couldn’t push for too much too fast. They had to take this one step at a time.
As he ushered her down the hall, she said, “What do immortals do on dates?”
“I don’t know, but this immortal is having a candlelit meal with his favorite human.” With a tug, he pressed her against the wall, eating up her personal space, his warm breath fanning over her brow. “Unless you’d rather do something else?” His coppery eyes devoured her...dared her...
A new cascade of shivers had an avalanche effect, growing stronger and hotter as they tumbled through her. The throbbing between her legs returned and amplified, her nipples beading, pressing against her bra, desperate for contact. For him.
Despite her desire to pull him closer, she flattened her palms against his pecs to hold him at a distance. “You really think I’m that easy?”
“If I say I hope so...?”
“Your honesty will impress me...but it won’t sway me. Let’s eat.”
He leaned closer, traced his tongue over the seam of her lips. “What if I want to eat you?”
Oh, sweet heaven. “I’m not on the menu.” More shivers, accompanied by tingles. “Yet.”
“That’s too bad, krásavica.” He rubbed a very impressive erection between her legs. “Too bad, indeed.”
A whimper escaped her. “I think you need to work on your Slovak. Krásavica means glamour girl.” Fashion wasn’t her thing. Never had been, never would be.
“I know. Glamour girls are lovely...charming.”
An-n-nd there went her pleasure. “Basically another word for useless.” He’d never see her any other way, would he? “I have a name. I prefer it.” She pushed at him, and he frowned.
“I meant no insult. In a life as ugly as mine, beauty isn’t useless. Beauty is priceless.”
Guilt flared in the pit of her stomach. Perhaps she’d been a little hard on him for his choice of designations. “I’m sorry for giving you attitude.”
“Don’t be. I happen to like your attitude.” He led her down a flight of steps and into the kitchen where he’d set up the candlelit dinner for two. The scent of seafood, butter and yeast filled the air, making her mouth water.
“Did you cook this?” No, impossible, she thought as soon as the question left her. She’d only given him an hour. “I bet you sent one of the girls to a nearby restaurant.”
“Wrong on both counts. I had Lucien—he’s the keeper of Death—”
“I know. I’ve met him. Even wore his T-shirt.” He seemed to be the most levelheaded of the bunch. He loved rules, strove for a peaceful resolution whenever his friends argued and, the best, he always remained gentle with Anya, his fiancée; he’d earned Katarina’s respect.
“Lucien can flash. What you and I did the day I took you to Aleksander, moving from one location to another with only a thought. He called in an order and picked it up.” Bad
en held out a chair for her. “In Paris.”
Impressive. She sat, asking, “Why didn’t you pick it up? You can flash.”
He settled in the seat next to her, their thighs brushing together. “I can only flash to specific people. And apparently any place I consider home.”
People like Aleksander. So...Baden’s victims?
A gloved finger stroked the line of her jaw. “You just flinched. Why?”
“Your intentions toward Alek,” she said, opting for honesty. Hide nothing.
A vein throbbed in the center of Baden’s forehead. “If you’re planning to ask me to release him, don’t. He won’t leave the fortress alive.”
On one hand, yay! No more crazy, cruel Alek terrorizing the world. On the other hand... “Cold-blooded murder isn’t an acceptable solution to anything. And I don’t want him released.” Don’t want you committing a dark deed, sending you deeper into your turmoil. “I want an annulment...and maybe for you to leave him locked up for the rest of his natural life. As long as there’s breath, there’s hope.”
“He isn’t human, which means he’ll live—”
“What!” Not human? When did that happen? “He’s immortal?”
Baden frowned. “The beast is pawing at my head... I think Aleksander is merely half immortal, that he’ll live longer than you but not forever. Now.” He poured her a glass of red wine. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
Such a normal action from a man who wasn’t normal. “News flash. Your wants aren’t more important than mine.”
He searched her eyes before he nodded. “You’re right. Now I’m the one who’s sorry. Forgiven?”
How could she deny him when he hadn’t denied her? “Forgiven,” she said with a little smile.
As she sipped and moaned at the richness of the wine, he removed the lids from the platters of food. “Do you like seafood?”
“Love it.” Pretending to be a lady—only taking one small bite at a time—wasn’t as difficult as she would have guessed. With Baden’s attention fixed on her, watching her every move, her stomach twisted. The rest of her continued to ache.
“You look uncomfortable,” he said, almost sounding...smug.
“I am.” Play a little hard to get.
Actually, why bother? It had been too long since she’d experienced any kind of pleasure. If a night with Baden meant forgetting the past six months, if only for a little while, well, sign her up for a little some-some tonight.
“How, exactly, did you meet Aleksander?” He growled the name, as if it scraped his tongue.
If Baden were a dog, he would have barked at her, too. Maybe even nipped her. He would have been labeled aggressive, but as she knew, aggressive wasn’t synonymous with cruel. A growl was merely a warning: dark emotions were escalating.
If fear was the culprit, she knew to create distance while remaining within eyesight. But that wasn’t the case here. Baden had no concept of fear. He was angry—at her? Or her circumstances?
For a man who’d once claimed her marital status meant nothing, well, that would be big. Huge.
“I thought you didn’t want to discuss him?” Studying his features, she added, “My husband, I mean.”
He bared his teeth in a scowl. “I didn’t. Now I do.”
And what Baden wanted, Baden got.
She reached out and traced her fingers down his gloved arm. The action served a dual purpose. One, it helped get him used to her touch without paining him, and two, it reminded him she was here with him, not Alek, hopefully soothing the worst of his anger.
He stared down at her hand with confusion...and longing?
Oh, yes, and it nearly undid her. She continued stroking him, saying, “He wanted to buy home protection dogs from me. He, meaning my husband.”
Baden’s scowl deepened.
Stroke, stroke. “Then, while I had him within my clutches, I seduced him for his money and power.” Don’t remind him of his shitty behavior. Oops.
Baden’s copper gaze narrowed on her. “Do you want me to kill him now?”
“No.” Stroke, stroke, stroke. “I’m just reminding you of your assumptions about me.”
He pushed out a breath, his shoulders turning in the slightest bit. “My apologies. I know you better now, and know you only married him to save your pets.”
As another wave of grief crashed over her, she pulled her arms close to her middle, ending all contact. “But I failed.”
He leaned over to place a gentle kiss on her lips, and his cheek brushed hers. He grimaced. To her disappointment, he retreated.
“When I refused to sell Alek a dog,” she said, “he asked me to dinner. I said no, and he made certain my brother acquired a taste for heroin, so that, when Alek told him to poison Midnight, the oldest member of my pack, Dominik obeyed.” Her chin trembled, but as usual there was no burn of tears.
“Your own brother betrayed you?” Baden’s fork bent.
She fought a growing sense of emptiness. Where was Dominik now? “In an effort to save my other three dogs, I found them new homes. Alek tracked them, again with my brother’s help, and stole them, hid them. He showed me pictures, said I could have them back after the wedding. I—” Hurt too much, and couldn’t do this. “Let’s change the subject, okay?”
He set down the ruined fork and shifted, his knee grazing hers. “Why do you never cry?”
He wasn’t the first to notice, but he was the first to ask. “I cried while my mother was sick. After she died, I just...couldn’t. I was tapped out, I guess.”
“She suffered?”
“Very much.”
“So you were relieved her suffering had finally come to an end. And guilty that you were relieved.”
“Yes.” An insightful observation for a self-proclaimed brute. “How did you know?”
The guilt she’d glimpsed every so often tightened his features. “When I was beheaded, I wasn’t taken by surprise. I could have ducked. I could have fought, but I didn’t. I remained unmoving. I...in essence...committed suicide in hopes of saving my friends from Distrust.”
Judging by the conversations she’d overheard in the fortress, she knew those friends suspected he’d wanted to die, though he’d never confirmed or denied it. And yet, here and now, he trusted Katarina to keep his secret and not hold the outcome against him.
Her heart swelled. “Maybe you did it for yourself, too? To finally know peace.” Was that the true source of his guilt?
A stiff nod.
Lightbulb! No wonder he hated weakness. His greatest loss and regret had been born in the moment he’d stopped fighting.
“You’re a changed man,” she said. “What you did, you would never do again. You grew and you learned.” And now, they both deserved a break from their pasts.
She plucked at the collar of his shirt and leaned closer to him, as if she planned to offer him a treat...a kiss. As he tensed, readying for the press of her lips, she released him and leaned away.
Disappointment darkened his features, and she almost laughed. Just like that, she felt buoyant, even...mischievous?
“I’m trying to decide...” she said. Oh, yes. Mischievous.
“Between?” The word was gnashed.
Her voice dropped to a raspy purr. “Between taking what I want, and making you come get it.”
He looked at her as if she’d just fallen from heaven. His big hand settled on her hip and with a single tug, he pulled her halfway onto his lap, leaving her no choice but to straddle his thighs.
“I’ll come get it,” he said and nipped at her chin.
Panties? Suddenly drenched.
“Perhaps I’ll reward you for your initiative.” She cupped him between his legs...and oh, sweet heaven, he was hard. Bigger than she’d realized. Thicker, too. Longer and harder.
“Perhaps not,” she said, removing her hand. “Are you pained?”
“Yes. But ask me if I care.”
She didn’t want him pained. But she didn’t want to end their play, either. “Do I owe you any other rewards?”
“You do. Anything I want.” He slid her down his thighs, until she was perched on his knees. Then he pulled her back, rubbing her core against him.
She shivered, barely able to gasp out, “What do you want?”
“For you to come on me.”
Darling man. “That can be arranged...” She arched her hips, once, twice, grinding on him. Moaning, she grabbed hold of his shoulders to hang on and enjoy the ride.
He gripped her hips and forced her to slow down, agonizing her, and...and...there!
Her mind hazed with the intensity of the pleasure. “This is so good! Don’t stop. Please, Baden, don’t stop.”
He didn’t stop. As she planted her feet on the floor and pressed down as hard, as hard as she could, he sucked in a breath.
“I like this,” she whispered. “I think I might keep you.”
He stiffened, then stilled. “You know this can’t go anywhere.” Every word emerged more ragged than the last, his hold on her tightening, almost bruising. “Yes?”
“Of course. I meant I’d keep you for a little while.” His need to explain was a bit insulting, and she found herself adding, “You realize I’m only using you as a distraction from my troubles, yes?”
His grip tightened further, definitely bruising her. What? He didn’t appreciate her honesty? He wanted to be the only one who considered their arrangement temporary?
Men!
“We’re too different,” she said, so desperate to move she followed up the statement with a whimper. “Now, enough—”
“Because I’m immortal?”
“And because you’re a killer.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, the fire inside her cooling. Stroking his arms again, she said, “What’s the beast want right this very second?”
“To fuck you and fight, in that order.”
Harsh words, harsher tone. Did he hope to scare her? Or prepare her? “Fight...me?”