like ants and people mere specks. If she fell, she would become the definition of splat.
Sweat beading over her skin, she scanned the C-shaped building. Most of the window drapes were drawn. The few balconies within range were guarded only by wrought iron, not brick. A point in her favor. But no one stood—wait! A woman stepped onto the balcony to Katarina’s right.
A striking twentysomething with shoulder-length black hair, the ends straight as a pin but uneven, as if she’d cut the strands with a kitchen knife—and no mirror. She had a strong, angular face and an equally strong body. The kind Baden preferred? Her black tank top put her toned biceps and the black bands wrapped around them on display. Bands just like Baden’s. An American fashion statement?
Both of her arms were tattooed, but from this distance, Katarina couldn’t catalog the designs.
A cigar rested between the woman’s lips, black smoke curling around her. In one hand, she clutched a glass of amber liquid. In the other, she clutched a bottle of amber liquid.
“Madam!” Katarina whisper-yelled, waving her arms. “Madam!”
Eyes of indeterminate color focused on her.
“Potrebujem pomoc. Zavolajte políciu!” The words left in a rush. Speak English! Right. “My name is Katarina Joelle, and I need help. I’m being held prisoner by a man named Baden. He’s a killer. Call the police—”
The woman stubbed out her cigar, turned around and entered her room, shutting the door behind her. Without ever speaking a word.
Katarina withered with disappointment. One of her dogs would have leaped across the building to reach her, but a fellow human being couldn’t be bothered to reply?
Damn it, what was she going to do now?
* * *
The time had come to earn his first point.
Baden flashed to—
The spirit realm. A cottage by the sea, judging by the sound of lapping waves, the scent of salt in the cool evening breeze. The furnishings were sparse, offering only the bare necessities. A couch, a coffee table and a chair. There were no pictures or decorations. No personal items of any kind, the kind of things that made a house a home.
A sweet melody drifted from the back of the house. A woman was humming. More specifically, a siren was humming. The lush, magical quality of her voice swept over Baden and even...soothed Destruction?
A trick of the beast to lull him into a false sense of calm? Always a possibility. Or a wile of the siren?
Baden couldn’t make himself care. He closed his eyes and enjoyed a rare and precious moment of peace.
Only when pots and pans clanged did he snap to attention. Anger burned through him, and Destruction growled. Not a trick, after all. The woman had managed to distract them both without trying. If she had the same power over Hades...
No wonder the male wanted her silenced.
Her, an innocent. Guilt razed Baden all over again.
Can’t afford to lose the game. He still wasn’t convinced Hades would keep his word and free the winner, but right now, he had no solution. He had to participate and buy time.
Determined, he stalked through the house. He stopped in the kitchen entrance, watching as the woman from his ash-vision dried and stored dishes. She moved slowly and always used both hands—one to hold the dish, the other to feel the cabinets as if...
She was blind?
He observed her for several more minutes, just to be sure, and decided, yes, she was blind. Twice, she’d turned in his direction but she’d never displayed a single hint of distress.
Horror joined his guilt. Hades expected him to mute a blind siren? No. Absolutely not. There were lines one simply didn’t cross. Once you did, there was no going back. No being the man you used to be.
What if, when Baden returned without the girl’s tongue, Hades sent Pandora to finish the job? Knowing her, she would act without question. She had centuries’ worth of rage trapped inside her.
Damn it! There was no good option here.
The siren stiffened, quieted. Her ears twitched. “Who’s there?”
Now or never. He flashed directly in front of her, wound his arm around her waist and, as she beat at his chest to no avail, flashed her to Hades.
“I will not hurt her,” Baden announced, and the girl stilled. “You wanted her tongue. Now you have it—attached to her body. If you want to keep it, you will vow not to harm her.”
The king sat upon the throne, the rest of the chamber empty. “You defy me right out of the gate. Shocking.” Such a dry tone.
“If you wanted a devoted acolyte, you should have given the bands to someone else.”
“What I wanted was a minion of darkness. What I got was a pussy! You need to get your shit together.” Hades drummed his fingers impatiently. “I’ll give you one more chance to man up. Let it be known henceforth. Hades, king of the underworld, shall grant his slave Baden one boon, good today only. You may use it any way you see fit. Freedom? A physical body?”
Baden blinked, and the siren vanished from his arms. Another blink, and she reappeared draped over Hades’s lap. She trembled so violently she might have been having a seizure. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks, making him think about the tears Katarina hadn’t shed. A pang in his chest.
Hades combed gentle fingers through the girl’s hair, his gaze locked on Baden. “I will take her tongue. Unless you use your boon to stop me.”
Rage—all his own. More guilt. Helplessness. Each bombarded him.
“Think carefully,” Hades said. “You don’t know the crimes this woman has committed against me.”
What gives you the right to be judge, jury and executioner?
“Release her,” he said through gritted teeth. “Vow never to harm her, and never to allow someone else to harm her.”
Hades arched a brow. “This is your boon? You’re sure?”
No. No!
He canted his head in agreement, earning a sigh from the king.
“I’ll be damned,” Hades said. “You’re the first of my slaves to do so.”
Others had worn the bands? What had happened to them?
A twinge of hope. With those few words, the king had revealed more than he’d probably wished. A fact Baden would use to his advantage. He would find the answers—and act.
Hades’s days as his lord were numbered.
“I’m disappointed in you,” Hades said. “One day you’ll learn people are never what they seem. Isn’t that right, siren?”
Her tears dried, and she laughed. “Wow. You really are a
