Gena Showalter

The Darkest Torment


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you can see, my will is your delight.” Hades waved a hand through the air. “You may stand.”

      His body unlocked, and he leaped to his feet, his hand automatically resting on the hilt of a dagger. He’d been tricked. And oh, the irony. The one time he should have doubted, he’d trusted blindly.

      Battling a redoubled rage, he gritted, “You can’t give orders if you’re dead.”

      “An empty threat? I expected better from a fearsome Lord of the Underworld. Excuse me, former Lord. But all right. Do it. Try to kill me.” Hades motioned him forward. “I won’t move. I won’t even retaliate if you land a blow.”

      Without hesitation, he stalked toward the throne, a plan of attack already forming. The throat and heart were obvious targets, so he would go for the femoral artery. Massive blood loss would lead to weakness.

      The moment he came within striking distance, he went low, the dagger at the ready.

      Hades smiled with genuine amusement.

      The rage redoubled, and Baden—

      Froze, unable to move. A mere inch from contact.

      Arching a brow, Hades said, “I’m waiting.”

      With a roar, Baden swung his other arm. It froze, as well.

      The king smirked. “As you are clearly brain damaged, I’ll help you compute what’s happening. You are incapable of harming me. I could press myself into your weapon, but you would turn the blade on yourself before I started to bleed.” He ran the tip of a finger along the edge of the blade in question. “The box bitch required a demonstration of that. Do you?”

      Box bitch. The bastard had put Pandora through this same routine?

      Protective instincts welled, appalling him. And yet, he thought he understood the source. Right now she was the only person in the world who understood his plight. Not only had they experienced the same horrors in the spirit realm—poisonous fogs, months without a single spark of light, plagued by a bone-deep thirst that could never be quenched—they were now experiencing these new horrors in the land of the living.

      “Well?” Hades prompted.

      Baden didn’t need another demonstration. He needed a new plan. “Why are you doing this?”

      “Because I can.” Black eyes glittered like a night sky filled with dying stars. “Because I’ll do anything, hurt anyone, to win the war against Lucifer.”

      A war Baden had supported for weeks. Of his own free will! There was no reason to force his hand. “Five minutes ago, I would have said the same.”

      “Five minutes from now, you’ll say the same again.” Hades reclined, stretching out his legs, and gesticulated with two fingers. “I’ve decided to delegate some of the more unsavory tasks on my to-do list. I’ll hear your thanks now.”

      Unleashed from the freeze-frame, Baden stumbled backward. Comprehension delivered a punch as powerful as William’s fists. He was to be an errand boy?

      “To ensure your willing participation outside these walls, every successfully completed task will earn you a point,” Hades continued. “Once the list is completed, the slave with the most points will be freed from the wreaths and allowed to live in the human realm.”

      New flickers of rage burned his chest. “And the loser?”

      “What do you think? I have no use for incompetent weaklings. But by the end, you might actually welcome the blade, eh? That is your MO, is it not?”

      Guilt...

      “Don’t bother going after Pandora in order to eliminate the competition,” Hades added. “Kill her, and I will kill you.”

      He licked his lips with an aggressive swipe of his tongue. “I’m already a spirit. I can’t be killed.”

      “Oh, dear boy, you most certainly can be killed. Without your head and your arms, you will simply cease to exist.”

      At least there was a way out.

      Hell, no. He would never purposely die. Not again. He would never hurt his friends in such a cowardly way.

      “By enslaving me, you court the wrath of my family. An army you need if you have any hope of winning your war. You also court the wrath of William, your own son.”

      Hades rolled his eyes. “Nice try, but you know nothing about the bond between father and son. William will support me. William will always support me. As for the Lords, I doubt they’ll ever back the monster who raped one of their own.”

      No, they wouldn’t. Aeron, former keeper of Wrath, loved a demon-turned-human girl like a daughter. That girl, Legion...who called herself Honey...still suffered from the effects of Lucifer’s abuse.

      Lucifer deserved a stake through his black heart, not another realm to rule. Siding with him would never be an option.

      Hades was the lesser of two evils.

      Baden flicked his tongue over an incisor. He had to play this bastard’s game—even though he suspected the outcome wouldn’t be as straightforward as Hades claimed.

      Buy time. Figure out a solution.

      “What of your father-son bond with Lucifer?” Baden asked with a sneer. “I’m not exactly feeling your love for him.”

      “There is no bond. Not anymore. Now, that’s enough chatter from you. I have two tasks for you. One will take time. The other will take balls. I hope you’re wearing yours.”

      Bastard.

      Hades clapped his hands and called, “Pippin.”

      An old man with a haggard face and humped back stepped out from behind the throne. He wore a long white robe and chiseled in a stone tablet. Never glancing up from his toils, he said, “Yes, sire.”

      “Tell Baden his first assignments.”

      “The coin and the siren.”

      Hades smiled with fondness. “You spare no detail, Pippin. A true master of description.” When he held out his hand, the robed man placed a tiny piece of stone on his palm. “A male in New York has a coin that belongs to me. I want it back.”

      This was an unsavory task? “You want me to fetch a single coin?”

      “Laugh now, if you like. You won’t be laughing later.” The stone caught fire and quickly burned to ash; Hades blew in Baden’s direction. “You’ll need time, as I said, and cunning.”

      He instinctively inhaled. A moment later, multiple images took center stage in his mind. A golden coin with Hades’s face on one side and a blank canvas on the other. A luxurious country estate. A chapel. A schedule. A picture: a twenty-five-year-old male with the face of an angel framed by golden curls that resembled a halo.

      Suddenly Baden knew a myriad of details he’d never been told. The male’s name was Aleksander Ciernik, and he hailed from Slovakia, where his father built an empire selling heroin and women. Four years ago, Aleksander killed his father and took over the family business. His enemies tended to disappear without a trace. Not that anyone could concretely connect him to a crime.

      “You now have the ability to flash to Aleksander,” Hades said. “You can also flash to me and your home, wherever it happens to be. The ability will expand to include any new assignments you’re given.”

      The ability to flash was something he’d always coveted. Today, his excitement was tempered with caution. “How did the human obtain your coin?”

      “Does it matter? A task is a task.”

      True enough. “And my second assignment?”

      Pippin placed a new stone in Hades’s palm. More flames crackled...more ashes floated in Baden’s direction. As he inhaled, a different image took shape in his mind. A beautiful woman with long strawberry-blond