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Once the home of Cronus, currently the home of the Unspoken Ones, a race of creatures so bloodthirsty and vile hardly anyone dared speak their name.
And yet the Unspoken Ones fear speaking my name.
She grinned, and knew anyone looking on would think she was pure evil. They would be correct.
Poor Torin.
She’d made sure he would do anything to remain behind, if only to end her to save his friends from her crazy. Which meant he was out there somewhere, waiting.
Anticipation...
Can’t get excited. This was business.
Bloody, bloody business.
An idea formed. Soon, Hades would send his minions after her. Every few weeks, they arrived to check on her and ensure she remained a prisoner. Watching them munch on Torin could be fun. He would experience writhing agony, and they would sicken. Then she could remove each of their heads.
The ideal end to so many of her enemies. It’s decided.
Okay. There was no help for it. I’m excited.
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_526afb4c-31a6-5323-85e4-1dfa0f0bd13e)
DUDE. THE RED QUEEN,Torin thought, incredulous. No wonder the immortals in the skies had merely whispered about her. Insane? Cruel? Hell, yeah. They’d probably assumed saying her name aloud would have a Beetlejuice effect and actually summon her.
Now, at least, he understood the title. With such power, she could kill entire armies in a snap and then some. And this is the female who threatened my friends. My only family.
Seriously. Duuude.
The demon shuddered.
Hidden by gnarled tree limbs that were covered with thorns and brittle leaves that snapped at him with actual teeth, Torin watched Keeley from a distance, like a creeper, completely dumbfounded by her. She’d stood in place as hunks of the dungeon rained around her, and not a single injury had she sustained. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Her arm was a wreck. But still. She’d brought the prison tumbling down, just as she’d claimed, and she hadn’t seemed to lift a finger to do it.
What else could she do?
Something stirred within him. The same fierceness he used to feel on the battlefield. The very sensation he’d once lived for—and had never thought to have again.
He smiled.
Idiot! This was one battle he may not be able to win.
Could anyone? Had he not freed the other prisoners on his way out, every single one of them would have died today. Would she have cared?
Definitely not.
Speaking of the prisoners...one of the males had been familiar to him. Emaciated, but familiar, rousing a sense of anger inside him. Torin had been unable to place him—or later, to find him.
Not that it mattered anymore. He had a bigger threat on his plate. In more ways than one.
He’d lost track of the number of times he’d almost gone back for Keeley. Not to hurt her or yell at her as he should have wanted, but simply to see her again, to tease her. To beg for her forgiveness. To prove she wasn’t as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as he remembered. To end the stupid tugging, an invisible cord constantly urging him closer. To just...be with her.
How stupid was that?
I have to kill her.
A pang of remorse ripped through his chest as he pictured the powerful, courageous beauty dead in a grave.
Damn it! He shouldn’t feel conflicted about her fate. And he shouldn’t have to remind himself of her threat against his family.
Time for a little negative reinforcement. Torin circled his fingers around the thick tree branch at his side, granting the foliage permission to feast on him.
Razor-sharp teeth grazed his skin, and blood dripped from his hand. The leaves erupted into a feeding frenzy like piranha, leaving nothing but bone. Hurt like hell as he pulled his arm away. He didn’t have to worry about the plant spreading the illness—it would die within the hour.
As he healed, he studied Keeley more intently. Two things became uncomfortably clear. The negative reinforcement hadn’t helped, the desire to slay her remaining curiously absent. And a desire to throw her down in a test of strength grew. A test of strength—that was all.
Her eyes were wide and sensuously uptilted as if forever beckoning the men around her to bed. Strip me, they said. Do anything you want to me.
Though her hair was caked with dirt and tangled, the strands glinted brilliant cobalt-blue in the muted sunlight. Her lips were red, erotically plump, the kind women were willing to pay a fortune to have...and men were willing to pay a fortune to have all over them. Her skin was flawless, as pure as ice, and also tinted blue.
Extraordinary. A living, breathing Sugar Plum Fairy, Dungeon Edition.
Cue the porno soundtrack.
He groaned. Not this. Anything but this.
Centuries ago, Torin had spent the bulk of his time screwing every woman he met—in his mind. And he’d been good. A god among men. Nothing like the too-rough soldier who’d been unable to seal the deal. He’d taken his lovers against walls, bent over coffee tables and on the ground as wild as an animal, and they’d loved it.
My gateway drug, opening doors I will never be able to enter, taunting me with what I can never have.
Keeley lifted her arm and stretched out her index finger. Lightning split the sky, striking the tip. She wasn’t felled and never even wavered on her feet. But she did smile.
What the hell was she?
Disease banged against Torin’s head, reckless in a bid to get away from the girl.
For once, Torin agreed with the demon. Warring with Keeley would not be a quick grab and stab as he’d expected. It would take time. Time he didn’t have. Cameo and Viola weren’t going to find themselves. And let’s not forget the need to hunt and destroy Pandora’s box. It was the only thing in this world or any other capable of killing him and all his friends in a single swoop.
Or so he’d thought.
Though he’d made no noise, Keeley’s head snapped in his direction. Her ice-blue gaze locked on him and narrowed. Despite the distance between them—roughly a hundred yards—he felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
And he liked it.
Just kill her and go.
“Hiding?” she asked. “I’m disappointed in you.”
Damn. In their time apart, he hadn’t built an immunity to her I-just-want-to-suck-you voice. Though it probably wouldn’t have mattered if he had. She wore a dirty, tattered dress, the sleeves torn off, the thigh-length hem frayed, and it was totally Tarzan’s-Jane sexy.
He stepped into a beam of light. “Well, I’m curious. How did you topple an entire building? And why did you wait so long to do it?”
“Torin, Torin, Torin.” She tsked. Despite her seeming composure, her eyes blazed with hatred. “You are demon-possessed. You murder people with a touch. I doubt using my secrets against me is too far outside your wheelhouse. You’ll understand if I refuse to answer?”
“Of course. But with your skills, I’m surprised more people don’t know about you.”
“I rarely leave survivors. There’s less gossip that way.” She looked him over once...twice...going more slowly the second time. She licked her lips, making him think—
No. Don’t think. He was already hard as steel.
Not even Cameo, the gorgeous keeper of Misery, had affected him this strongly—and with so little—and they’d dated for months.
“Feel like doing a girl a favor?” Keeley asked. “Tell me how you opened the door to your cell. The prison was designed to respond to Cronus, and you, Lord of the Underworld, are not him.”
It had taken Torin only a second to unlock the door, and he’d wanted to kick himself for not escaping days ago. How could he have forgotten Cronus had sealed the All-key inside his chest? That it could open any lock, anytime, anywhere.
“No favors,” he said. “Not today.” Attack her. Now!
“Of course.” She smiled and, though it was nothing more than a malevolent display of teeth, it was like she’d found a hidden, magic button connected directly to his reproductive system.
For intense, sizzling arousal, press here.
He backed up a step. Isn’t her. Can’t be her. His hobbies usually distracted him from unwanted desire, but he didn’t currently have access to a computer or video games, or a kitchen, or a camera, or a pool table, or a chessboard, or a pack of cards, or a thousand other things. And, okay, wow. Apparently not thinking about sex, not trying to get sex, and not actually having sex equaled lots of free time for Tor Tor.
But even though it wasn’t her—really, really can’t be her—he couldn’t stop himself from imagining her dressed as a concubine. Glittery bra. Blue, of course, paired with sheer pantalets. No panties.
In his mind, he pushed her to her knees and demanded she swallow every throbbing inch of him.
She had that penchant for swallowing, after all.
She obeyed him eagerly—couldn’t live another moment without knowing the taste of him—opening her mouth, taking him deep. All the way, until she reached the base. A moan of rapture left her, the sound vibrating along his length, intensifying his pleasure.
Yes. That. That’s what he wanted.
He had to grit his teeth against the magnificence of the sensations coursing through him. The longing for what he could never have—and shouldn’t want. The heat. The race of his heartbeat.
Enough. Stop!
Had Mari taught him nothing?
Had Cameo? She’d never flat-out stated her dissatisfaction with their arrangement, but he’d felt the emotion like another entity in the room. She’d had needs. To be handled by her lover. Petted and caressed. Massaged. Comforted. Squeezed, kneaded...filled. Needs he couldn’t meet.
Destined to disappoint. Always.
Besides, this female meant to kill him. And if not him, his friends. For a crime he had committed. This was no silly misunderstanding they could work out with a simple heart-to-heart convo.
Keeley splayed her hands, all look how awesome I am. “I’m going to do you a favor and let you pick how this goes down. Would you rather I remove both of your arms or force you to dig out each of your organs with your own hands?” Somehow she appeared even calmer and the flames of her hatred even hotter.
“How do you plan to do either of those things if you can’t touch me?”
“Why tell you,” she said, “when I can show you? Spoiler alert: my next trick is going to nut-kick the last one.”
“Nut-kick?” If not for her murderous rage, she might have been the perfect woman. “Real queens don’t talk that way.”
“This queen does.”
A second later, the foundation dropped out from under his feet. No, not true. It hadn’t dropped; he had been catapulted into the air where he hovered, his limbs pulled taut...and tauter...until both of his shoulders were jerked from their sockets. His skin began to tear. Sharp pains, everywhere. Any moment, he would lose each of his limbs.
The perverse thing about the experience? He liked the pressure, savored it.
“How are you doing this?” he asked through panting breaths.
She blew him a kiss.
Hardcore. Like foreplay for warriors.
I’m a sick man. Har har.
“Right now,” she said, “you are experiencing an extreme bout of helplessness. The same helplessness Mari must have felt as your fever pillaged and plundered her immune system.”
Forget the pressure. Guilt choked him.
Keeley’s chin trembled. “You made her cry, warrior. Sometimes I swear I can still hear her sobbing.”
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “Do it, then. End me.” He deserved it. And she would be satisfied, his friends safe from her wrath.
“So quickly?” she asked. “No. We’re just getting started.”
Some of the pressure eased.
“Come on!” he shouted as his wounds healed. “What are you waiting for? You won’t get another chance like this.”
“Actually, I’ll get as many chances as I like.”
“That confident in your ability?”
“Perhaps I’m that confident in your lack of ability.”
The taunt burned so badly he could have used a little aloe vera on his soul. Always on the bench, never in the game. Forcing an easy tone, he said, “I’ve been nice to you on account of your loss and everything—”
“Which was your fault!” she spat, the pressure increasing all over again.
“—but my goodwill has officially run out.”
An animalistic roar suddenly echoed through the forest, interrupting the beginning of a long, rambling speech that would have had no point but that of postponement, giving him a chance to think of a way out of this.
Torin dropped, crashing into the ground. Even as he lost his breath, he jumped to his feet. Behind him, twigs snapped. Limbs slapped together. Another roar sounded, this one louder, closer.
Something was headed this way—and fast.
