the material over his head, hiding a muscled chest tattooed with symbols Baden had never before seen.
“Leave us, Melody.”
Melody. A fitting name.
The girl stood and, counting her steps, headed for the door. She smiled a mocking smile as she passed Baden.
“This hasn’t been a good day.” Threads of anger layered Hades’s voice. “You better have what I sent you to get.”
“I do.” He flung the panties across the room. “I’ve earned my next point.” He now had sixteen in total. Tied with Pandora at last.
Nine of his points were from kills, four from retrievals, and two from nonsense, like the fetching of the panties. But...Baden got it now. The kills took out Lucifer’s major players, those who adversely affected humans. Acquiring the artifacts prevented Lucifer from using them against Hades, while the panties (and other things) amused him. Amusement kept him sane, providing light in a time of doom and gloom.
A slow smile bloomed over Hades’s face as he brought the material to his nose and sniffed. “How did you get them? Tell me quick.”
“I asked. In return, I promised the Harpy I would deliver a message for her.”
Anticipation actually glowed through Hades’s pores, creating a halo-effect around him. “Deliver it.”
Baden closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “You are sexy, delicious and hot, but offer you my V-card? I will not. My panties get wet every time your name is called...but I’m still going to ensure...you are constantly blue-balled.”
A laugh barked from Hades, one born from genuine humor. “Clever little witch.”
The transformation was shocking, as if a wolf on the prowl had just transformed into a dog with a new toy. But that was the magic one woman—the right woman—could wield over a man, wasn’t it? Not that Taliyah was Hades’s one.
But look at his friends. Once feral, now domesticated.
Katarina’s image shimmered inside his head, her features as delicate as a butterfly’s wings, and Baden’s body jerked in response. He cursed. She couldn’t be his one. They were too unevenly matched.
Another curse escaped him.
Mind on the task at hand. “Your son, William,” he said. “He’s hidden the human girl, Gilly, and we’d like to know where he—”
Hades’s burst of humor vanished. “I suggest you leave. Now.”
“So...no hug goodbye?” Baden meant the words as a jest...maybe.
When the king lunged for a sword, Baden said, “I’ll take that as a no,” and flashed to the fortress.
11
“Do us both a favor and remove your manpon.”
—Strider, keeper of Defeat
THE NEXT WEEK passed quickly. Katarina waited, a little anxious and a lot eager for Baden to call in the favor she owed him. After all, he hadn’t returned bloody. But he also hadn’t mentioned her reward. Had he killed on his mission? Or had he changed his mind about wanting her?
Well. She—the lowly soldier—wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. Or think about him. Or yearn to kiss him...the way she’d yearned to kiss him when she’d framed his beautiful face with her hands. Nope. Nada. Nie.
She threw herself into her work. Ashlyn’s kids had refused to help her, a stranger, but they often trailed after her, peeking and giggling from behind posts. She ensured Biscuit and Gravy were bathed, medicated, fed daily and given shelter, doing her best to keep her emotions on lockdown. No love, no hurt. And yet, true to her nature, she found herself spending extra time with the animals, determined to get them used to her presence—to maybe even crave it.
The treats she left behind after each visit had already worked wonders. Now, instead of growling when she approached, they wagged their tails and jumped around with excitement.
So precious. And they just happened to be her favorite breed: rescue. Okay, okay, they were also a mix of other breeds. The pair had short fur and large, square heads with wide, muscled chests like pit bulls. Except, in terms of body size, they were as big as full-grown Great Danes—roughly one hundred and twenty pounds—even though their (extra sharp) teeth told her they were both under four months old.
I like big mutts and I cannot lie.
Biscuit had a serious underbite. Gravy, who was mostly white, had a line of black fur over his upper lip. The most adorable mustache! The two loved to wrestle and bite fight—the canine version of does this hurt, huh, huh, does it, well, what about this?
Three times she’d fit them with collars, and three times they’d ripped the leather to shreds only a few minutes later. They hated the leash and bucked like