Gena Showalter - The Darkest Touch

“You once gave me a choice.” His eyes became twin infernos, burning everything they touched. And they seemed to touch her everywhere. “Now I’m giving you one. Walk away from me and your vengeance—or suffer.”

CHAPTER FIVE

TURNED ON—CHECK.

Yeah, I put the “fun” in dysfunctional.

Torin should probably call a doctor. Not even Cialis was supposed to cause such an intense reaction.

What has one hundred and thirty-two teeth and holds back the Incredible Hulk? My zipper.

For a moment, he found amusement in the fact that his penis had decided to act like a third wheel on a date and pop in to complicate things, butt in to private conversations and demand attention at the most inappropriate times. But the amusement didn’t last long.

Keeley had tried to murder him with her earth-shattering power—twice!—and she totally would have succeeded if he hadn’t circumvented her with the brimstone. So the fact that he had an erection the size of a battering ram, all because she’d peered at him with those icy eyes, daring him to take a swing at her, was messed up. Even for him.

But the kicker? He was trying to Jedi mind-trick her into choosing option B. To suffer. Because it was the only way he’d get to spend more time with her.

I’m worse than a monster.

No, no. He had this all wrong. His reasons for wanting to spend more time with her were completely altruistic. If she was occupied with Torin, she wouldn’t switch her focus to his friends.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you work any situation to your favor.

The blue-tinted beauty raised her chin, the perfect study of feminine stubbornness. “I choose...suffer,” she said, moving into a battle stance. “I may be weakened by what you’ve done, but I’m still the most powerful being you’ve ever encountered. I’ve killed kings, toppled kingdoms.”

Shouldn’t grin.

The demon banged against his skull, impatient to get away from the girl.

Not happening.

“You’re more than weakened, princess. You’re severely limited.” The brimstone actually stopped her from harming him, because her power was an extension of her. “Are you sure you don’t want to take a moment and reconsider this? Maybe make a pros-and-cons list?”

“Is this to be a debate or a physical battle? I’ve considered.”

Well, all right, then. “Don’t forget. If you touch my skin, you’ll sicken. And if, miracles of miracles, you survive the raging fever and bloody cough, you’ll become a carrier and infect others.”

“Talk, talk, talk, blah, blah, blah,” she said—and struck. She must have flashed a branch into her hand because one second her fist swung at his face, the next the jagged branch slammed into his jaw.

Blood in his mouth. A lance of pain. He stumbled, straightened and wiped his already-swelling lips. He should have been annoyed. Or angry. Yeah, anger was probably the proper response. Instead, he was—shocker!—invigorated. He’d handicapped the chick, but she’d found a way to strike anyway.

Maybe aliens had taken over his brain.

“If you want a chance to win this,” he said, “you’ll have to hit me harder.”

“Oh. Okay.” Whack!

Stars behind his eyes, and yet he kind of wanted to laugh. She’d merely given him what he’d asked for, and he couldn’t fault her for it.

Definitely aliens.

When she swung a third time, he was ready, catching the stick and jerking it from her grip. She yelped, startled by the disarming. Hadn’t expected him to be a worthy opponent, had she? He released the pimp-slapper, but it vanished before it hit the ground.

He didn’t have to wonder what had happened. She’d flashed it somewhere else.

“You can’t defeat me,” she said, circling him. A predator with a meal in sight.

Adrenaline spilled into his blood, riding the waves in his veins. “I can...but I’d be willing to accept your surrender.”

A shrill cry suddenly echoed. He and Keeley looked up in unison as a sphinx flew in circles overhead, dodging clouds with expert precision. The bare-chested creature had the haunches of a lion, the wings of a great bird, and the torso of a woman. A fresh-off-the-pole, looking-to-give-you-the-lap-dance-of-a-lifetime woman.

Come on Little T. You gotta be interested in getting a little of that.

Nada.

The sphinx bared a mouthful of fangs, spread her claws wide and angled face-first, swooping down, clearly intending to grab a little takeout. Keeley waved a hand through the air and both of the creature’s wings crumpled like a tin can under a stomping foot. Down the sphinx spiraled, crashing into the tops of trees a good distance away.

Well, hell. Keeley could use vast amounts of power to turn anything or anyone into a weapon despite the nearness of the brimstone scars. Good to know.

End this. He kicked out his leg, tripping her while she was distracted. She fell backward and would have tumbled into the pit if he hadn’t grabbed her by the center of her dress and spun her. He quickly released her. She stumbled over a tree root, falling to her ass.

“Still think I’ll lose?” he asked, at last allowing his grin to make an appearance.

When her head snapped up, her eyes—those eyes as cold as ice—narrowed to tiny slits. There was a moment of startling connection, man and woman...a moment of visceral desire before her anger took over. He reeled, even as the thunder started up again and the ground beneath him shook. It was what he’d felt just before the prison had come tumbling down. What he’d felt before the Unspoken One had exploded.

“I warned you about my temper, Torin.”

“Aw. Is the little princess mad because she’s getting spanked?”

The shaking intensified. It came from...her?

Because Princess was getting mad?

“I told you. I’m not some lowly princess!” As Keeley pushed to her feet, wind whipped up around her. One branch after another appeared, slapping at him.

What am I waiting for? Act! He could have fought through the attack and punched her in the head. Unconscious, she would be unable to defend herself, and he could do whatever he wanted with her. Like, say, tie her up and—

Not going there.

But he couldn’t bring himself to hurt her physically. Which was freaking inconceivable! When he’d worked for Zeus, he’d been an equal-opportunity torturer and killer. Nothing had stopped him. Now this?

“This all you got?” he said.

The branches vanished as he and Keeley circled each other.

“Oh, don’t worry.” She scowled at him. “I’ve got more.”

Footsteps sounded from the left and from the right. He didn’t have to look to know the cavalry had arrived, and there was no longer any need to stall.

Keeley turned.

Cameron broke through a line of foliage at one side, and Irish and Winter through a line of foliage at the other. Keeley had focused on the duo, allowing Cameron to do what Torin had not and punch her in the side of the head. She slumped to the ground, her eyes closing. The thunder and shaking ceased.

From zero to max in a single second. That’s how quickly unholy rage boiled inside Torin.

“That wasn’t the plan!” Using all of his considerable strength, he slammed his gloved fist into Cameron’s nose. Cartilage didn’t just snap, it shattered. Blood spurted as the warrior stumbled backward. “You don’t hurt her ever. ”

Winter and Irish fronted on Torin, not daring to touch him but glaring daggers.

“What are you complaining about, Sickness?” Winter cracked her knuckles. “We’re the proud new owners of a Curator. It’s what we all wanted.”