The Darkest Torment. Gena Showalter

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The Darkest Torment - Gena Showalter

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A human male has Hades’s coin, and Hades wants this most special coin back. Does it have unusual powers?” Could Baden use it to his advantage?

      She blew him a kiss. “I’m mighty and fearsome. Immortal royalty! I don’t concern myself with mortal affairs.”

      Steady... “Forget the human.” For now. “I’m supposed to remove the tongue of a siren. Why would Hades command me to do such a gruesome task?”

      “Hello! Because two tongues are better than one.”

      Destruction shoved a roar out of Baden’s mouth as a memory rose...Keeley hovering in the air, her hair such a dark red the strands resembled rivers of blood. Others hovered in the air around her, their bodies taut, their limbs shaking...their lips parted in an endless scream.

      One by one, the men and women burst apart, pieces of flesh and viscera raining down on him—on the beast. Blood splashed him, the only man left standing.

      She smiled at him. “Better?”

      “Much.” He clapped, proud of her, but also leery. If her power increased any more, she would be able to defeat him.

      All threats had to be eliminated.

      Fingers snapped in front of Baden’s face, and he blinked, returning to the present.

      “Hey!” Summer Keeley looked him over. “You went zero dark thirty on me.”

      “I’m not sure you understand the term—never mind. I apologize.” The beast had known and admired Keeley. Must have met her through Hades...must have been friends with Hades?

      No better time to dispose of a future threat. Even if the threat is an ally.

      Suddenly Baden’s hands ached to wrap around her neck and squeeze.

      Her spine will break as easily as a twig.

      Horrified, he stepped out of reach. William had spoken true. One day, he would snap; he would be hated. The guilt he carried now would not compare to the guilt he carried then.

      He had to leave the fortress, and this time, he had to stay gone. William’s sex plan had merit but he now knew beyond a doubt it wasn’t the answer. Because of his skin sensitivity, yes, but also because he couldn’t trust anyone.

      Again, the irony.

      Lucifer would send another assassin. It was only a matter of time.

      Destruction writhed with anticipation, practically foaming at the mouth to prove himself strong. Attack me. See what happens.

      Let me guess. You’ll kill. Broken record. The beast needed new material.

      A sense of loss struck Baden. His friends wouldn’t understand his continued absence. A second “vacation.” They would worry, and they would wonder if they’d done something wrong.

      Together we stand, or one by one we fall.

      How many times had Maddox, the keeper of Violence, spoken those words since Baden’s return? Countless.

      This wasn’t righting his wrongs, but it was putting the well-being of his loved ones first.

      “Baden?”

      He turned from Keeley and palmed the cell phone Torin had given him. Technology was a bitch he had yet to tame, but he gave group texting his best shot.

      Meetinf in 5

      He would explain his situation with Hades and, with the advice of the warriors who’d navigated this world far longer than him, plan his first move, gain his first point, and fight by fair means or foul to maintain the lead in his game with Pandora.

      The sooner he won, the sooner he could say goodbye to Destruction and safely return to his family.

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      “All I want from a man is everything and nothing at the same but different times, sometimes and never but always.”

      —Keeleycael, the Red Queen

      KATARINA JOELLE PRAYED for the end of the world as her fiancé recited his wedding vows.

      Aleksander Ciernik was a bad, bad man, and she would rather eat rusty nails than pledge her life to his. But he’d given her a choice: marry him or witness the torture of her bother Dominik.

      Earlier in the year, Dominik had signed up to work for Alek of his own free will. So, after she’d laughed in Alek’s face and said, “Go ahead. Torture him,” he’d upped the ante. Marry him, or witness the torture of her precious dogs.

      Panchart! Bastard.

      She’d stopped laughing and started calculating the LGB. Likelihood of Getting Bitten.

      To Alek, Katarina would only ever be a prized horse to trot around his friends whenever the mood struck. He would do nothing but make her miserable. But her dogs needed her. They had no one else.

      The problem? If she saved the dogs today, Alek could hurt them tomorrow. Or any day after. He would continue threatening their welfare to control her.

      But, if she saved them today, she would gain time. Time she could use to hide them. If ever she found them. Alek had hidden them.

      His guards watched her every second of every day, but twice she’d managed to sneak out of her suite to search the estate. She’d been caught both times, no closer to success.

      I’m going to get bitten one way or another, aren’t I?

      Throughout her childhood, she’d helped her father with the family business, training drug-detection and home-protection dogs. After high school graduation, she’d taken the reins of control. And despite the added weight of responsibility, she’d used her free time to rehabilitate the aggressive, abused fighters the rest of the world had deemed too dangerous.

      Three of those victims—Faith, Hope and Love—had been so deformed most people hadn’t had the cojones to look at them, much less to offer a forever home. So Katarina had adopted the trio as her personal pets, pouring her heart and soul into giving them the happily ever after they’d always deserved; they adored her for it.

      Then Alek kidnapped them and held them for ransom. He’d also vowed to hunt down every dog she’d ever worked with—one bullet to the brain.

      She loved her canines, remembered every name, every tragedy they’d suffered in their young lives, and every personality quirk. More than that? A trainer always protected her charges.

      A lesson her father had taught her.

      Mr. Baker—a sniveling coward on Alek’s payroll who’d gotten ordained online—cleared his throat. “Your vows, Miss Joelle.”

      “Mrs. Ciernik,” Alek snapped.

      She smiled without humor. “Not

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