He wanted to see it, to assure himself it wasn’t deeper than she realized, but he bit his tongue. Her hurts were not his problem. Not anymore. “If you value your life, you’ll stay here and you’ll stay quiet.” He would deal with her treachery after he’d seen to his friends. Men and women who would never betray him.
“I can help—” she began.
“But you won’t. I don’t trust you.”
“Fine. We’ll stay away from the action.” She plopped onto the couch and patted the spots beside her. The dogs jumped up and sat. “Not because you ordered it, but because my sweethearts need time to calm.”
Caters to the dogs, but not to me.
Baden stomped through a doorway to the right, entering a small greenhouse where Keeley lay in a pile of dirt. The enclosure was warm and moist, the air scented with roses. Her flesh was in the process of sewing itself back together.
Torin crouched beside her, drifting his fingers through her pink hair. He was chalk white, his features ravaged. “I love you, princess. I need you to heal. Just like before. Just like every time before. You can do it. You can do anything.”
Behind the pair, Paris and Amun shoveled more dirt into a wheelbarrow. To dump on Keeley?
“How can I help?” Baden’s mouth dried. What his friends felt for their women...it was foreign to him, and yet an undeniable spark of longing lit him up inside. To have someone of his own...
Torin’s emerald gaze flipped up, glassed by unshed tears. “You can’t. I’ve got her, and she’s got her dirt.”
As a Curator—once a spirit of light, tasked with the safekeeping of the planet—she was bound to the earth and its seasons.
Baden scoured a hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I know you think we’re better together, but I should have left the fortress weeks ago. My connection to Hades put everyone in the middle of his war with Lucifer. William warned me, told me I would bring nothing but harm.”
“William isn’t the be all and end all,” Paris said. “No matter what happens, you belong with us. And we were on Hades’s side, anyway. Lucy would have come for us sooner or later.”
“Now, at least, we know beyond a doubt we’re on the right side,” Torin said.
Yes. While Baden had already lost his grudge against Hades—for the most part—he’d still resented some of the man’s darker tasks. No longer. Now he would do everything with a sense of urgency and eagerness.
Lucifer would pay for what had happened this day. He would pay greatly. His utmost weakness was the Morning Star, the main reason he wanted to possess it. The death of the Lords was just a bonus.
For Baden, finding it had never been more important.
“Shout for me if anything changes.” He strode through another door, entering the medical ward, where the others had congregated.
Ashlyn reclined on a gurney, a gash on her cheek. Most likely it would scar. The twins were clutched to her chest, both covered with bumps and bruises.
Gwen was conscious, now sucking on Sabin’s carotid as if it was a juice box. Harpies, like vampires, needed blood to heal; Sabin’s must have been potent, because it had already worked magic. His wife’s cheeks were bright with color.
Scarlet, the keeper of Nightmares and Gideon’s pregnant wife, had her left leg propped on a mound of pillows. She had a compound fracture, her tibia peeking through her skin, blood seeping from the wound.
Gideon was beside the bed, hunched over and vomiting into a bucket.
He must have spoken a word of truth sometime during the chaos, allowing the demon to sicken him.
Evil always pounced on the chance to hurt—even with its host.
The blue-haired warrior wiped his mouth with a shaky hand and kicked the barf bucket a few feet away. “Not sorry,” he rasped to his wife. “Love seeing you like this.” He had a gash that stretched from his hairline to his jaw, cutting through one of his eyes and practically splitting his nose in two.
“I’ve had worse,” she told him. “And don’t take this the wrong way, darling, but you’re hideous. Go lie down. Lucien and Anya are the doctors du jour and they can—”
Gideon gave an adamant shake of his head. “Yeah, you’re fine. I’m leaving.”
“I can set her leg,” Baden interjected. “I have field training.” He’d had to doctor himself in the realm of the dead. “I can help.” He needed to help.
Relief bathed Gideon’s features. “No way and no thanks.”