The Darkest Torment

The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Baden.

“Well.” William pretended to be offended. “Try to do a man a favor.”

Concentrate! “Yesterday you said you knew nothing about the wreaths.”

A hike of his broad shoulders. “That was yesterday.”

“And today you know...what, exactly?”

“Only everything.”

He waited for the warrior to say more. “Do you require another beating? Tell me!”

“Beating is too strong a word for what transpired. I’d go with massage.” William buffed his nails. “Just so you know, the wreaths’ side effects are numerous and horrifying.”

“I figured the horrifying part out on my own, thanks.” Removing the wreaths wasn’t an option. They were fused to him, and he would have to amputate his arms with a meat cleaver.

Before his death, his arms would have grown back. Now? He wasn’t sure and wasn’t willing to experiment. Well, not on himself. His hands were his first line of defense.

“Give me specifics,” he demanded.

“For starters, if you want to keep your new temper tantrums at bay, you’ll need sex and a lot of it.”

The pronouncement was a joke. Had to be.

Baden arched a brow. “You offering, oh great and randy one?”

William snorted. “As if you could handle me.”

To be honest, he couldn’t handle anyone. When he wasn’t fighting, he avoided any kind of contact, the sensitivity of his skin too great. Every brush of flesh against flesh was excruciating, like a dagger being raked across exposed nerve endings.

“You’re going to leave Budapest today,” William said. “You’ll go...somewhere else. You’ll collect a harem of immortal women, and you’ll spend the next decade or two concerned only with pleasure.”

Leave his friends? After they’d only just been reunited? No. He was here to help them, to guard their backs the way he’d longed to do for centuries. “I’m going to pass.”

“And I’m going to insist. You can’t beat the darkness.”

“I am the darkness.”

The warrior canted his head in agreement. “Here’s the rub. Maddox and Ashlyn have children. Both Gideon and Kane have a pregnant wife. Not to mention the other females living in the house. And what about the traumatized Legion? The vulnerable Gillian?” His voice roughened with her name. “You go after any of the females the way you went after me, and your brothers-by-choice will gut you. No matter how much they love you. I will gut you.”

“I would never—”

“Oh, princess. You so would.”

A new rage sparked. He slammed a fist through the wall and cursed, proving William right. The beast took advantage of him at every opportunity. “All right. I’ll leave.” The words pained him, but he even added, “Today.”

“Your IQ just jacked to the next level.” William beamed at him. “Any idea where you’ll go?”

“No.” He had very little experience with the modern world.

A sigh. “I’ll probably regret this later,” the warrior said, stroking two fingers over his jaw, “but what the hell. We only live twice, right?”

Baden waved a hand, a silent command to carry on.

“For the bargain price of a favor to be named later, I’ll give you one of my homes and even set up a carnal buffet for you. And don’t worry. By the time I’m done, even a man with your lack of game will be able to score a ten.”

* * *

As the rapid beat of rock music blasted from surround-sound speakers, a pair of double Ds hit Baden in the face. He hissed in pain, not that—whatever her name—noticed as she gyrated on his lap.

She reached out to cup his nape, clearly intending to draw him closer.

Every man needs to motorboat at least once in his life, William had told her earlier. Make sure Red gets his chance.

Baden batted her hand away as gently as possible.

She grinned at him, though there wasn’t a single hint of amusement in her eyes. “Performance anxiety, sugar? I know the perfect cure.” She hopped off and spun, shoving her ass in his face.

“Twerking is the best, isn’t it?” William said now.

Baden turned to glare at him. They were the only males in the room, and the prick was certainly living up to his original playboy reputation as he stuffed a hundred-dollar bill in the G-string of his own stripper. A blonde bumping and grinding on him with absolute abandon.

“Even though you should be paying me, I’m feeling generous.” William gave her another hundred. “Don’t think I failed to notice your orgasm. The first or the second.”

She was too busy having a third to respond.

“This isn’t helping me,” Baden snapped.

William leaned forward to lick the blonde’s collarbone. A practiced move he seemed to perform by rote. “Don’t doubt my pimposity just yet. This is only the appetizer.”

Pimposity?

“Listen to him.” Miss Twerk faced Baden, brushing her fingertip along the curve of his jaw. “You’re supposed to eat me up.”

The pain! He endured it a few seconds more, but only to clasp her by the hips and set her away from him once and for all. “No touching. Ever.”

His unintentionally harsh tone made her tremble.

“Go.” Disgusted with himself as much as the circumstances, he motioned to the door. “Now.”

As she raced from the room, he settled more comfortably on the couch and closed his eyes. He needed sex—supposedly—but he couldn’t bring himself to have it. What kind of future awaited him? One dark rage constantly bleeding into another? Like before...

Another memory he’d never lived played through his mind.

He stood outside the dungeon he’d occupied for a torturous eternity, a sea of bodies and body parts all around him. Blood soaked his hands...hands tipped by sharp claws, bits of flesh and other things.

Footsteps thumped in a nearby hallway. A survivor?

Not for long.

Grinning with anticipation, he climbed through the debris and—

The music cut off abruptly, drawing Baden back to the present. He opened his eyes in time to see the last stripper exit the room.

William tsk-tsked at him before flashing away...and returning with two glasses and a bottle of ambrosia-laced whiskey.

Ambrosia, the drug of choice for immortals.

The warrior filled the cups to the brim. “Here. Lubricate your brain.”

The sweet scent wafted to Baden, causing his stomach to churn. For a moment he was a child again, trapped in the burning field, running...running...his heart galloping like a horse at a race.

Not me. The beast.

Trembling, he drained the cup. A tide of warmth spread through him quickly, calming him despite the adverse association, grounding him deeper in the here and now.

“There. Isn’t that better?” William reclined at his end of the white couch, the only piece of furniture in a room of white.

White walls, white floor tiles. White dais with a trio of mirrors in back. Baden’s reflection—the only real source of color—glared at him in challenge. He’d become a soldier he no longer recognized, with shaggy red waves in desperate need of a trim. Dark eyes once filled with welcome only offered silent threats. A mouth that used to quirk up in amusement only ever curved down in anger. Laugh lines had been replaced by scowl lines.

No, not better. “I’m ready to leave.”

“Too bad. I won’t remember how to flash you somewhere else until you’ve gotten laid. And as soon as you appear less murdery, you will get laid. The girls will love you.” William drained the contents of his glass in a single gulp. “Just do me a solid and inform your face this is supposed to be a good time.”

“Skin-to-skin contact is painful.”

The beast snarled at him for daring to voice such a damning vulnerability, even to one of Hades’s children.

William frowned at him. “If you think the wreaths are responsible—”

“I don’t.”

“—think again. They’re not. So grin and bear it or you won’t live through your transition.”

Transition? “Appearing less murdery, as you say, is the true challenge. I’ve forgotten how to smile.”

“Are you whining?” William set his cup aside and traced a fingertip down his cheeks, mimicking tears. “Your new life sucks. So what? Do you think you’re the only one with problems?”

“Certainly not.” His friends were currently hunting for Pandora’s box, determined to find it before someone—anyone—else. It could kill them in an instant. Just boom...gone...dead, their demons removed. Normally a good thing. But evil so entrenched had to be cleansed first and replaced by its opposite. Like with Haidee, Hate for Love. Otherwise rot set in. Which was why the Lords were also hunting for the Morning Star—a supernatural being still trapped inside the box, capable of granting any wish. Capable of freeing the demons without killing the warriors.

Lucifer had mounted a search for the Morning Star, as well, though he had no plans to spare the Lords. He was at war with Hades and determined to win whatever the cost. He’d made no secret of his desire to eliminate his father’s allies: William, Baden and all the others. And as the master of Harbingers—messengers of death—he might just be powerful enough to succeed.

“That’s right,” William said. “You’re not. In fact, my life makes yours look like a picnic hosted by naked forest nymphs.”

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

“Under-exaggerating, perhaps. In a matter of days, Gillian will celebrate her eighteenth birthday.”

“So?” Baden wanted the guy to say the words aloud—to admit to a vulnerability of his own. Tit for tat. “She’ll be an adult. Old enough to handle you.” He couldn’t help but add, “Or any other man she wants.”

“Me,” William snapped. He’d never been able to mask the intensity of his emotions for the girl. “Old enough to handle me. Only me. But I can’t have her.”

When the guy said no more, Baden prodded him. “Because you’re cursed?”

A pause. A stiff nod. “The woman who wins me will kill me.”

Wins. As if he were the prize. The same can’t be said about me. “Well, boohoo for you.” Survival first, matters of the heart second—if at all. “You’ve been warned. You can be proactive.”

What. The. Hell. Had he just suggested William kill sweet, innocent Gilly before she had the opportunity to kill him?

His hands fisted. He needed to put a tighter leash on the beast. So. He would pick a girl, have sex with as little bodily contact as possible, and maybe, for a little while, his head would clear. He would be able to think, to figure out a way to remove the wreaths, and the beast, keep all his body parts and remain tangible.

“Enough conversation.” He forced the corners of his mouth to lift. “I’m less murdery. See?”

“Wow. Just when I think you can’t look any worse, you go and prove me wrong.” Even still, William clapped his hands. “Ladies.”

Hinges creaked as the door opened. A new crop of scantily-clad females sauntered into the room—a brunette, blonde, redhead and ebony-skinned beauty. Smiles abounded as they lined up across the dais.

The mirror suddenly made sense. Baden had a perfect view of the front and the trunk. His long-denied body stirred at last, even as a new heaping of self-disgust assailed him.

“Prostitutes.” He should have known.

The blonde blew him a kiss.

“They prefer the term freelance pleasure specialists. They are immortal. A Phoenix, siren, nymph and pretty little kitty shifter, to be precise.” William draped a muscled arm over the top of the couch. “Which one do you want to jones for your scones? Your wish is her command.”

“I have no interest in feigned passion.”

“Hate to break it to you, Red, but feigned passion is all you’re going to get.” The warrior offered him a sorry-not-sorry smile. “Right now, you have only two things in your favor. You’re rich, thanks to investments Torin made over the centuries, and you’re a dead ringer for Jamie Fraser.”

“Who?”

“The male these females are going to pretend you are,” William said. “Because you, my dear man, are lacking in charm and sophistication, which means your fat wallet and chiseled features are all you have to get you to the finish line.”

“I’m not lacking in charm.” Sometimes he was. Maybe. Probably always.

William ignored him. “Ladies, tell Baden how pretty his wallet and face are.”

“So pretty.”

“The prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

“More beautiful than pretty.”

“I’ll ride your wallet and your face!”

Baden glared at William while stroking the hilt of the dagger hidden in a sheath at his waist.

William sighed. “If Jason Voorhees and Freddy Krueger spawned a love child, I’m certain that nightmare of a kid would look at me just—like—that.”

More men he hadn’t met. Which annoyed him greatly! He had no need for reminders that the world had ticked along just fine without him.

“My brilliant sense of humor is lost on you. Noted. Ladies,” William said, reclaiming the bottle of whiskey, “tell Baden what carnal delights you’re prepared to offer him.”

One by one, they breathlessly described different scenarios. The shy virgin. The naughty librarian. The punishing dominant. The girlfriend experience.

When Baden had lived in Mount Olympus, he’d dated his fair share of women, but he’d never loved one. He’d wanted an equal, not a weakling merely using him for protection, placing his power before her sentiment. He was tempted to try out the girlfriend experience.

“Well?” William prompted.

“I will accept none of the scenarios offered.” Give me truth, or give me nothing. He met each beauty’s gaze. For the chance to tame the beast and return to his friends... “Who will bend over and simply take it?”

Perhaps he was lacking in charm.

William shook his head and muttered, “You should be embarrassed.”

Meanwhile, two feminine hands shot into the air.

“Me! Pick me!” The brunette. The punishing dominant.

The blonde elbowed her in the stomach. “I’m the one you want.” The naughty librarian.

“How are we friends?” William asked him.

“We aren’t.” Baden had twelve friends. Only twelve. The men and woman who’d suffered demon possession right alongside him. The warriors who’d bled with him and for him—the heroes he’d only disappointed since his return. They wanted him to be the man he used to be, not the bastard he’d become.

An-n-nd there was another log on the fire of his guilt.

“Tears. Sadness.” William placed a hand on his chest, as if he’d been stabbed. “Now. Choose your girl. I’m going to do you a solid and take the other three.”

“What type of immortal are you?” Baden asked the two contenders.

“Phoenix,” the brunette said, her pride evident.

“Nymph,” the blonde said, her voice smoky.

“You.” He pointed to the blonde. “I choose you.” Nymphs needed sex more than they needed oxygen. At least she’d get something other than cash for her trouble.

The brunette wilted with displeasure, surprising him.

“I’ll make it up to you, petal,” William told her with a wink. “With him, you’d have to work for every cent. With me, you can simply enjoy. I don’t want to overhype my skill, but I invented the female orgasm.”

Whatever. Baden stood and, without initiating contact, led the blonde to the exit. He opened the door and motioned her through. The faint scent of white oleander accompanied her. He followed her into a narrow hallway, maintaining a safe distance.

“Pick a room,” she said with what might have been...anticipation? “Any room.”

He selected the first one on the right, entering before her in case someone waited inside, intending to attack. No assailant jumped out, but he did find a camera hidden in a clock on the mantel above the hearth. William’s doing? Why?

After disabling it, he conducted a more generalized search. The room had a king-size canopy bed with black silk sheets, a nightstand full of condoms and lubricants, and a recliner next to a bear-shifter rug.

The blonde traced a fingertip between her breasts. “What do you want me to do, gorgeous?”

The beast protested. Loudly. He didn’t like her, and didn’t want Baden distracted and vulnerable while in the presence of another—especially in an effort to quiet him.

Still Baden said, “Strip and bend over the edge of the bed, facedown.”

“Ohhhh.” She grinned. “Are you going to spank me for being naughty?”

The beast cursed him, then the girl. You will leave. You will leave now.

No threat. Just an order. Something about his tone...

A tone Baden had only ever heard from kings. Who are you?

With barely a pause, the beast replied, I am Destruction.

2

“Your hardest times often lead to your greatest moments. So get hard.”

—William the Ever Randy

BADEN REELED. THE BEAST...Destruction...a demon.?

A king, he added.

The pride in the creature’s voice was unmistakable.

Nailed it. A king of what?

Right now? You. Leave the girl or kill her. Your choice.

There was one other option. Baden narrowed his focus on his chosen bedmate. “I won’t be spanking you, only fucking you. Strip, and bend over the bed facedown,” he repeated. “Please, and thank you.”

Destruction hissed.

“For you, gorgeous, I’ll do anything.” She unhooked her bra and shimmied out of the matching underwear. Both garments floated to the floor. As she moved, the ring she wore glinted, the multicolored stone catching in the light.

Bang, bang, bang. The beast kicked Baden’s chest with so much force, the impact mimicked a heartbeat. Can you not see the danger right in front of you?

The girl had no concept of his inner turmoil and slowly pivoted, revealing her backside. She bent over the mattress, as requested, and spread her legs to present him with a view he’d missed all these centuries.

“Just so you know, I can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’.” She looked over her shoulder, her smile returning. “Show me your worst.”

She wouldn’t survive his worst.

Destruction banged harder, hissed louder. Kill her before she kills us.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth.

“No?” she asked, incredulous. She gave her ass a firm slap, leaving a red palm print. “You’re going to walk away from this?”

Jaw clenched, he replied, “I will have you.” And I will silence the beast.

Relief bathed her features as he moved behind her. As he fought the impulses of his companion, sweat poured from him. Soon his clothes were sticking to his too-sensitive skin.

Destruction grew even more frenzied. She’s the enemy. See! Know!

All I see is a one-way ticket to paradise. It was time to nut up or shut up. No matter how agonizing. Risk...reward. Baden left his dampened shirt in place and merely unzipped his pants.

She continued to watch him over her shoulder, unabashed. “You really are beautiful, you know.”

“Only on the outside.”

“Even better.”

He wished he had experience with modern women. Did they actually like assholes?

In four thousand years, the only other female he’d interacted with was Pandora, and she’d constantly tried to kill him. Now she was out in the wild, tangible because she, too, wore a pair of serpentine wreaths. She’d staked out the fortress and managed to sneak past security to ambush him. Twice! In both instances, they’d nearly killed each other.

Was she dealing with her own version of Destruction?

Fool! Already you’re distracted. Without me you’ll become a walking target.

Hell, no. A lie from a desperate creature. Baden withdrew a condom from his pocket, not trusting the ones in the drawer. As he ripped the foil packet with his teeth, a strange red glow bathed the room. He palmed a dagger, looking around, Destruction suddenly—strangely—calm.

The girl twisted to brace her weight on her elbows and face him fully. She gaped at him. “Your arms.”

He glanced down and frowned. The wreaths were no longer black but crimson, and the brighter they glowed the more they singed his skin, little black rivers branching from underneath them, reminding him of the cracks in the foundation of his life—and his sanity.

What the hell was going on? He zipped up his pants, intending to find William.

His companion released a heavy sigh. “No wonder he wants you dead.” With no other warning, she swung her fist at him.

Instincts honed on the bloodiest of battlefields spurred him into motion even before his mind processed what was happening. He caught her wrist before contact and twisted her arm behind her back, effectively pinning her down.

Now kill her, Destruction said. Make her a cautionary tale for all who think to harm us.

He would...not. “You said he wants me dead.” The words were snarled. “Who is he?” William?

“Let me go!” She kicked at him to no avail. “It was nothing personal, okay? Not on my part. I only wanted the money.” She beat her free hand into the mattress. “I should have stuck to the plan and waited until you were weak from orgasm.”

He wrenched her arm higher, and she shrieked in misery. The ring caught his attention. The stone had been discarded, revealing the needle underneath. She’d intended to poison him?

Cautionary tale...

Enemies had to die. Always.

“William!” he bellowed, though he needn’t have bothered.

The bedroom door burst open. William stomped inside, his narrowed gaze landing on the blonde. “Mistake, nymph. I would have been good to you.” Blood drenched him. “Now you’ll only experience my worst.”

Tremors of fear rocked her.

“She said he wants me dead,” Baden informed the warrior.

A muscle ticked below his eye. “He. Lucifer. And don’t you dare refer to the male as my brother. I’ll never claim him.”

Baden should have guessed. Lucifer was power-hungry. Greedy. An unrepentant rapist. A killer of innocents. The father of lies. There was no line he wouldn’t cross. No foul deed he wouldn’t commit against men, women and even children.

William motioned to Baden’s glowing bands with a tilt of his chin. “Prepare yourself. Soon you’re going to face—”

Baden was yanked through an invisible black hole...only to crash-land on the other side. He oriented his mind as a massive ballroom came into view. Tendrils of smoke wafted from multiple bonfires, hazing the air as they curled toward a domed ceiling made entirely of flame. There were only two exits. The one in back, manned by giants, and the one in front, manned by even bigger giants.

A grandiose throne made from bronzed human skulls consumed the center of a long dais, and on that throne sat Hades himself. He was a large man, similar in size to Baden, with inky hair and eyes so black they had no beginning or end. He wore a pin-striped suit and Italian loafers, the elegance at odds with the stars tattooed on each of his knuckles.

Urbane and yet uncivilized, Hades spread his arms. “Welcome to my humble abode. Love it before you hate it.”

Baden ignored the nonsensical greeting. He’d interacted with the king only once before, when the male gifted him with the wreaths and freed him from Lucifer’s prison. “Why am I here?” The glow faded from the bands, the metal cooling, becoming dull and dark once again. Better question: “How am I here?”

Hades smiled slowly, smugly. “Thanks to the wreaths, I’m your master, and you are my slave. I called, you came.”

Baden fought the urge to attack. “You lie.” He was slave to no one, not even the king. The beast, however...might be. Realization stabbed him, and suddenly only one question mattered. “Who is Destruction?”

The king was an expert strategist and donned a blank mask. “Perhaps a man I cursed. Perhaps a being I created.” His fingers formed a steeple in front of his mouth. “The only thing you need to know? He will always choose me over you.”

The beast offered no response, a fact as annoying as it was baffling.

“I will fight his compulsion to obey you,” Baden vowed.