The Darkest Touch. Gena Showalter

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The Darkest Touch - Gena Showalter MIRA

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Cameron said. “Greediness gets you killed.”

      “I’m your only ally out here,” Torin reminded them. “Dial down the threats or leave my camp.”

      Winter scowled. The other two shrugged. They might not like him, but they needed him.

       And I need to find my Curator. Where are you, Keeley?

      He’d engaged in countless blood feuds throughout his long life, but this just might be the first one he’d ever actually considered...fun. He didn’t deserve to have fun, and it was certainly wrong of him, given the nature and gravity of the situation—but it’s too late to turn back.

      This time he would be ready for whatever Keeley dished.

      * * *

      A ROPE SNAGGED around Keeley’s ankle. In a single heartbeat, she was whisked into the air and hung upside down.

      Seriously? This again? She flashed to the ground.

      One more mark on the ledger of Torin’s crimes.

      Only forty-six hours into her hunt, and she was already on edge. He was alive, yes, but he’d evaded her. His traps had annoyed her.

      Thunder boomed overhead. The sound bothered her, reminding her that another rain was due any day. One that would have nothing to do with her emotions. Have to be gone by then.

      And where were Hades’s minions? She’d abandoned her plan to feed them bits and pieces of Torin. She just wanted them dead so she could concentrate fully on the warrior.

      She stalked forward, pushing out streams of power to fell the trees in her path. I will find him.

      How many times had she tracked an enemy with Hades? Countless. She was good. The best. A little rusty, perhaps, but she’d take determination over skill any day.

       Whoosh!

      An array of arrows flew at her. She easily dodged, spotting the manticore leaping from the branches of a still-standing tree. He had the head of a man, the body of a lion and a crossbow for a tail. She caught him with a stream of power, holding him in place. Then, with only a thought, she ripped off his skin, leaving it in one piece, and stuffed his bloody carcass back inside it—inside out. When he hit the ground, he stayed there, writhing.

      Word of the Unspoken One’s death had spread, and creatures were out in droves, apparently ready for a five star dine and dash.

      They must not have realized she was the infamous Red Queen.

      A loud click clack captured her attention, her ears twitching. A laelap appeared around the corner, gunning for her. A metal dog that would never give up once it had spotted prey. It could be blinded, its legs cut off, blood pouring from the wounds, but still it would try to find a way to reach its intended victim.

       Don’t have the patience for this.

      Sighing, Keeley released another stream of power, crushed the creature into a ball and flattened him like a pancake. Tiny metals parts flew in every direction.

      Torin’s masculine scent drifted by on a tendril of wind, claiming her attention. He was close!

       Come out, come out wherever you are.

      As she sniffed, she picked up the scent of three other prisoners, as well. Two males, one female. Keeley bit the side of her tongue until she tasted blood. Who was the female to Torin? His latest girlfriend?

      Probably. He was too pretty to spend his nights alone.

      The thought annoyed her, but she couldn’t fathom why. Unless... Yes, of course. Mari had been forever denied a chance at a happily-ever-after, so Torin should be, as well. It had nothing to do with Keeley’s sizzling attraction to him.

      An attraction that hadn’t lessened with the passage of time, but grown.

       I’m too smart to go through another bad-boy phase. Yes? Please?

      But it was becoming harder and harder to convince herself that Torin’s appeal centered around her desperation, that any male would have affected her just as strongly. Only one male had emerald eyes twined with different shades of green, each brighter than the last. Only one male had those sensuous lips... What would they feel like against her skin?

      Did he prefer a soft press...or a hard demand?

      No! No pleasure. Not from him. Only revenge. She—

      Tripped on a strategically placed vine and stumbled. As she regained her footing, she heard another whoosh. About fifty feet away a crossbow was anchored to a branch that was connected to the vine. She caught the arrow by the shaft before the metal tip could sink into her hammering heart.

      Well, well. Another mark against Torin.

      Flickers of anger. Thunder booming.

      Perhaps she needed to expand her Kill Torin plan. Find him, torture him for being so irresistible, and then slay the girlfriend in front of him.

      In a word—perfect! Mari would have been proud.

      Keeley’s shoulder drooped, her chest aching all over again. Actually, Mari would have scolded her for such a plot. The girl would have said, her tone gentle, “Keeley, love, you yourself have killed many people, and every victim had a best friend left behind. You know this. Do not hate someone else for committing the same sin. And do not wallow in the past. It’s like quicksand and will keep you trapped. Forgive and move on.”

      So wise, her Mari.

      But...could Keeley allow Torin to walk away from the travesty he’d caused?

       Can’t do it. Just can’t.

      Her heart was broken. Only vengeance would spackle the pieces together again.

      As she motored along, lost in thought, she stepped onto a dilapidated board. The center snapped and she fell, crashing into the bottom of a pit before she even realized what had happened. Her ankle twisted, and her knees buckled. Sharp pains exploded through her, but they were nothing she couldn’t handle.

      Gold star, Torin. He’d done his job well.

      A shadow fell over her. “It didn’t have to be this way, you know.”

      Skin prickling with an insane amount of heat, she glanced up. The diabolical warrior stood at the top edge of the pit, the barrel of a rifle aimed at her head. Breath caught in her throat—but not because of the weapon.

       He’s even more beautiful than I remember.

       He’s also a thief. He stole Mari. My sunshine. My happiness.

      “Really, Torin? Really?” she asked, as though disappointed, hoping to mask her humiliating reaction to him. Blood, heating right along with her skin. Every cell singing, begging for a rush of sensation only the press of male hardness against female softness could give. Hands, itching. To touch him. No, no. To kill

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