Page 34

The Darkest Touch Page 34

by Gena Showalter


"Sorry, Charming, but even though I'm thrilled you finally admitted to the exalted status of my rule, you'll be sitting at my feet. We're going to have what's called a matriarchy."

"As old as you are, I'm surprised you haven't learned how to pronounce that word correctly. It's patriarchy. Say it with me. Pay-tree-arc-ee."

She twisted his nipple. "Torture. Say it with me."

His laughter boomed through the room.

"I will be such a benevolent overlord," she said. "I will demand only that everyone do exactly as I say, when I say. And bow whenever I enter a room. And bring me gifts at least once a day. And throw rose petals at my feet as I pass."

"That's all?"

"Probably not."

"Sounds fair to me," he said.

"You'll be captain of my guard, of course."

"And I will storm your castle at least three times a day." He rolled her to her back and gnawed playfully at her neck. "Who am I kidding? Six times a day."

She screeched with laughter and tried to wiggle away from him. "That tickles! Stop immediately!"

"Never! There's treasure to be plundered."

After her laughter had tapered into giggles, she grew quiet. "Torin?"

"Yes, princess?" He licked at the pulse hammering in her neck.

"Are you pleased with the honor to serve under me?"

Such a serious tone. "Me...under you? That's the way you want it?" He flipped her over, draping her over his lap. "I'm more than pleased with this honor."

She sat up to straddle him, the tips of her hair brushing his chest. "Oh, I like this."

Breathtaking. He reached up, fisted the hair at her nape. "Wait till you see what comes next."

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

FROM THE HIGHEST of highs to the lowest of lows.

Twenty-four hours had passed with no signs of sickness. But as Torin had discovered a few days ago, he'd been wrong. Ridding himself of the wards hadn't helped. Had merely delayed the inevitable. A wasting disease had struck Keeley, and struck hard. She slept, unable to be roused, unable to eat or drink, dying for lack of nourishment until Hades came to check on her and returned with the best immortal doctors.

Keeley was hooked to an IV and pumped full of medicines found only in other realms, but even still, her cheeks hollowed, her skin turned sallow and Torin...

Torin lost all hope.

He'd thought he'd figured everything out, thought he'd had the answer to happily ever after at long last. But he'd just been fooling himself.

Further, they couldn't find Pandora's box--he hadn't forgotten the block Keeley encountered when she'd tried...twice--which meant they couldn't find the Morning Star. He was out of options.

He and Keeley could continue on as before--his heart clenched--if she even survived this newest sickness. They could continue having sex with their clothes on, not daring to kiss, every caress measured, tentative, just in case the clothing had shifted, but that would not be enough. Would never be enough again. He'd had her. All of her. Nothing held back. That's what he wanted for the rest of eternity; that's what he needed.

What she needed. Whether she would admit it or not.

But neither of them could have it. And he was so damn tired of making mistakes. Of hoping, of trying, and then sitting front row for her suffering, knowing he was the one to blame. That if he'd only resisted, it wouldn't have happened.

He'd told himself he would never again reject her, never put her through such a hurt, but he'd just been fooling himself about that, too. He had to leave her, and this time, he had to make her accept it. Make them both accept it.

Words wouldn't be good enough. He had to do something permanent, something that couldn't be undone. Something she would despise.

He studied her, how still she was lying on the bed, taking in air only because of a machine. The quiet hum of its motor filled his ears, obscene to him. Hating himself, he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin. He knew what he had to do.

*

"WE NEED TO TALK," Torin said.

The expression on his face caused Keeley's stomach to churn. The man before her looked cruel, uncaring, and wasn't the lover of her dreams.

She'd just recovered from another disease. Had left her sickbed only this morning to shower and eat. This should be a time of celebration, not...whatever was to come. I can guess.

"All right." She gulped. "Talk." They were in their bedroom, alone. He leaned against the door, his hand on the knob, as if the desire to leave was stronger than the one to stay.

"We're over," he said.

Knew it!

"You will not change my mind, Keeley. Not this time."

His words, stated so baldly, held an air of finality, but still she shook her head. "No."

"I'm leaving and I won't be back. You won't flash me back, and you won't flash to me."

A warrior to her core, she planted her feet and prepared for battle. "You don't like that I sickened again. I get it. But we've forged something sweet and rare and precious. Don't give it up because you're afraid."

"Afraid," he echoed, then laughed without humor. "Try terrified."

"Torin--"

"I could lie and tell you that I don't love you or that I'm attracted to someone else, like Cameo, or that I intend to take Hades up on his offer. You hate lies, and liars, and your hate would make this easier. But the truth is, I'm tired of making you ill. I'm tired of being the reason you suffer."

"You...love me?"

"I do."

"Torin--"

"But it's not enough," he said, and again, the finality of his tone scared her.

"It is enough! Together we can overcome anything."

"We can't. As we've proven."

"We'll find the box," she said, desperation making her rash.

"Will we?" He shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

The moisture in her mouth dried. "You're making a mistake."

"No." His small smile held only sadness. "For the first time, I'm doing what's right. You wanted to be first in a man's life, to be a treasure worth saving. Well, you are. I told you that. But it's time I showed you, for actions are better than words. I'm going to save you--from me."

She took a step toward him. He wasn't as stoic as he appeared because he jolted back, slamming into the door. "Don't."

He's right. Don't beg. Never beg. "Please don't do this," she whispered anyway. There was no stopping the words. "We belong together. I love you. I love you so much and want forever with you. I don't care what that forever entails."

He blanched. "You don't get it, Keeley. It's already done."

"No. I refuse to believe that." Outside, rain began to pelt at the fortress walls. A boom of thunder. A fall of snow. Responding to me. Because her bond to Torin was in the process of breaking.

"I'm sorry." He turned the knob.

No! "If you walk out of this room, I won't take you back. I'll be done. Like you, I'm tired. I'm tired of the back and forth."

"Good," he said with a clipped nod.

The rain redoubled. The thunder grew louder, the snow more fierce. "One day you'll beg me to take you back. You'll realize what a huge mistake you made, that we could have made this work."

"I won't."

Like Hades before him, he refused to back down in his quest to destroy her, unsatisfied until every tie with her had been severed. "Torin. Please."

He reached back and gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling the material over his head--revealing a chest covered in brimstone scars.

She would have rather been punched. She stumbled back, her knees hitting the edge of the bed. Down she sank, bouncing on the mattress. It was a betrayal of her trust in him. A symbol of everything she despised. A sign that he'd turned his back on everything they'd built.

In a snap, the bond withered to ash, leaving her wounded, hollow. The pain, oh, the pain. More than she'd ever been forced to bear.

Without his strength, the weather worsened tenfold.

"How coul
d you do this?" she whispered.

"What's sad is that there's a better question to ask. Why didn't I do it sooner?"

Tears streamed down her face, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to form a response.

But he wasn't done slicing her heart to bits. "Do us both a favor and finally put me in the Time Out box. It's where I belong." He opened up the door and left her--and soon, the fortress.

*

TORIN SAT IN the back of a darkened club that catered to immortals, throwing down his eighth ambrosia-laced whiskey. He was in a terrible mood. Had been since he'd walked away from Keeley and said goodbye to his friends...however long ago that was. A week? Four?

An eternity?

Some of the reactions played through his mind.

Strider: Dude. Don't be a prick. Stay. We'll figure this out. You think it was easy for me to pair up with a woman who can kick my ass at any moment, ensuring the demon of Defeat makes me suffer for days? No. But I didn't puss up about it and leave her. She was worth fighting for. Isn't yours?

Sabin: You need to be kneed in the nuts.

Baden: I've missed you, just found you again, and you're going to leave? Did you exchange your heart for a block of ice while I was away?

Lucien: Go wherever you need to go, but I'm going to find you and I'm going to keep you updated...no, don't shake your head at me. The curiosity will drive you insane. One day you'll even thank me.

One day.

He hated one day. One day Keeley would forget him--if she hadn't already. One day she would move on. Find another man. Take another lover.

Hate him! Whoever he was, he didn't deserve her.

Torin would kill him.

No, I can't kill him.

He just...damn it, he missed her. Everything about her. Her smile. The way her eyes glowed with her emotions. The way her hair changed color. The old-world charm mixed with modern verve. The fierceness of her. The strength she constantly displayed, even when she was vulnerable. The sweetness of her. The silly things she said. The brilliant things she said. The threats she made. The way she responded to him. The way she put him first, above all things. The lengths she went to protect him. The kingdom she wanted to build. Her temper. His ability to calm her from her temper.

She was precious. He could be himself with her, didn't have to worry about being nice, hurting feelings, causing tears. She was joy. She was peace. Had anyone else ever had such a pure heart?

Pure...and broken. Because of me.

He kept picturing her pale, waxen features as he'd calmly stated his intention to leave her. He'd damaged something deep inside her. Something that might never be fixed. She didn't know that he'd cut off the brimstone scars the day after he'd left her--couldn't know. He'd been too disgusted with himself to even look at them.

But too little too late.

I hurt her again, when I only ever wanted to make her happy. How could I do that?

I should be hung up by my collarbone, caned and castrated.

Today he'd come to a bar that catered to immortals, hoping to drown his emotions in whiskey. But all he was doing was working up a good mad. Keeley had made him believe in possibilities. She'd made him want a future with her, despite everything. How cruel of her. Especially since she should have known better!

The mad jumped straight into rage. She was older than him, wiser, too. If anyone should have been able to keep a clear head while in a relationship, it was her. But nooo. She had to go and muddle things up, make him think he could have more than what he was used to. And now he was supposed to live without it? Without her?

Damn her!

Was Hades romancing her?

Torin's fingers clenched his glass so tightly it shattered. Sharp stings, wells of blood. But he barely noticed the injuries.

A female sauntered past him and tried to trace his cheek with her fingertip. Snarling, he batted her away with a gloved hand, and not because he feared starting a plague. The world could suck it. Be with someone besides Keeley? No! Never. No one else compared to her, no one else ever would.

Have to forget her.

Someone slid into the chair next to his.

"Leave. Or suffer," he snapped.

"Have a feeling I'll suffer either way."

The familiar voice registered, and his head jolted up. Surely it wasn't--but it was.

Galen was here.

Deserve this. I really do.

"Nice shirt," Galen said.

Torin glanced down. The shirt read, "Property of William." He shrugged. He hadn't exactly cared what he'd pulled on today--or was it yesterday? Dude. He probably needed a shower.

Fingers snapped in front of his face, and he flipped his gaze back to Galen. His former friend had the same blond hair, same rugged features. White wings once again arched over wide shoulders. But the wings were smaller than Torin remembered, only just growing back.

Hatred should have bloomed in his chest but didn't. His guilt and misery took up too much room.

Galen stroked a hand through the feathers of one of the wings. "Cronus cut them off before imprisoning me."

"Poor you. What are you doing here?" Torin threw back another whiskey, welcomed the burn. "Come to kill me? Fine. Do it." Anything was better than living like this.

As if I'm actually living.

"Not here to fight with you. Was headed back to the fortress when I caught word that you were slumming it. Had to see for myself."

Torin shrugged. Whatever. Once, this man had stood at his side for everything. Every war, every battle, nearly every moment of their downtime. Inseparable, that's what they'd been. And Torin might have been able to forgive the betrayal about the box, but not the centuries the guy had spent trying to murder him.

"You can go now."

Galen's gaze stayed on him, studying, intent. "Never seen you like this. So moody. When did you acquire a vagina?"

Going to go there. Okay. "I didn't know you were a misogynist pig. And you don't know me. Not anymore. Don't pretend you do." He picked up another glass. He had them lined up on the table.

Galen knocked the glass out of his hand.

Torin pursed his lips.

"No," Galen said. "I don't know you. But you don't know me, either."

"Don't care to learn."

"Well, you're going to. All this time, you and the others thought I did what I did out of jealousy or spite, and maybe I did, in part, but you never once considered the fact that I might have cared about Pandora, or that I thought we were making a huge mistake."

"Please. If that were true, you could have talked to us."

"I did!" Galen beat his fist against the table. "More than once. But no one would listen."

He--yeah, he remembered Galen expressing a few concerns. Pandora is one of us, and yet we're going to hurt her? And what do we really know of this box? What's inside it? I've heard rumors...something dark, twisted...

"Fine. You're innocent. Of that. But you later took Baden's head."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Galen muttered.

One day you'll realize you've made a mistake.

Keeley's voice drifted through his mind once again.

"One day" again.

Can't deal with this. At a breaking point. "I'm going to ask once more, and if you don't answer me, I'm just going to start cutting. What are you really doing here?"

Galen was silent for a long while. Another woman walked past their table, stopping to tangle her fingers through the warrior's hair.

"Aren't you a pretty one," she said. When he scowled and pushed her away, she focused her predatory gaze on Torin. His dark expression sent her scampering.

"I want to see Legion. Honey," Galen corrected. "I can't concentrate without her. I can't think of anything but her. I can't eat, I can't sleep. Nothing matters but getting to her, talking to her, holding her, easing her hurts."

In the skies, Galen had been a major player. Never with the same woman twice. They'd been as exchangeable as socks. Now the man's desp
air called to Torin's own. Like to like.

"You love her," he said.

"I don't know."

"She didn't do well after the Unspoken Ones attacked the fortress, so Aeron and Olivia took her somewhere else, but I don't know where."

Galen scrubbed a hand down his face. "Thank you for telling me."

"Save your thanks." Torin signaled for another round of drinks. "This doesn't mean we're friends."

"Don't flatter yourself. You're my enemy today, and you'll be my enemy tomorrow."

"Good."

"Good."

The drinks arrived. But Galen didn't stand and walk away. Torin pushed one of the glasses in his direction. The warrior claimed it.

They pounded back the alcohol in perfect sync. Probably would have continued on for hours more, but their table was suddenly surrounded by the spiderlike minions Torin so loved. More than he could possibly count. Claws hovered all around him, just waiting to snap.

Torin gave a shooing motion with his fingers. "Leave or suffer."

"Hades would like a word with you," one of the creatures announced. "You did not take care of his female."

"His female!" Torin pounded a fist against the table, and the drinks toppled over. "She's mine!"

Galen laughed, slurring, "You're in trouble now, gentlemen."

Torin jumped to his feet, swayed. "You wanna fight me, fine. But you won't be happy with the results."

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

AFTER KEELEY'S INITIAL bout of sorrow--such a mild word for what she'd felt--a sense of numbness had settled over her. Which was a good thing. She hadn't destroyed anything. Although she had almost waterlogged the fortress with rain. But almost never counted.

Since Torin's abandonment, she'd had to fend off Hades at least once a day. He'd visited her wherever she happened to be, romancing her as promised, offering her gifts. Ancient artifacts, weapons, her favorite foods, stories about all the ways he'd love to pamper her. Last night she'd finally told him to stop, just stop. She'd had enough. Nothing was ever going to happen between them. He'd had his chance, and like Torin, he'd blown it.

Men sucked.

Except for all the other Lords. They hadn't turned away from her because Torin had. They brought her breakfast in bed, sat beside her while she cried, distracting her, telling her stories about their lives.

In her desperate state, she'd instinctively bonded to them. They'd helped her in ways they couldn't understand, strengthening her in ways she'd never known.