Sensing the direction of his thoughts, Fox added, “Distrust shared the memory with me.”
Of course. The bastard. “I abandoned my lists. Listening to the demon was just...easier. I’d been fighting for so long, I’d grown weary of it all.” He’d allowed his light—his hope, the heart of him, the protective side so much a part of his nature—to be snuffed out.
A light Katarina had relit.
Will protect her at any cost.
Perhaps he should rename the beast Construction, he thought with an inner laugh. His other half no longer tore down but now built up.
Only with my human.
My human. Baden put the finishing touches on the sandwich.
Galen sailed into the kitchen. The blond paused when he spotted them and arched a brow. “Am I interrupting a gabfest, girls?”
“Yes,” Fox said at the same time Baden said, “No.” The eggs done, he dumped them atop the toasted bread. “I’m done.”
“That’s his impolite way of saying he can’t be away from his precious another second,” Galen remarked. “Oh! Breakfast sandwich!”
“Touch it and lose a hand.” The ends of his fingers burned, the claws threatening to emerge—oops, they had emerged. They clanked against the porcelain.
Galen rolled his eyes. “BTW. Could you and the little missus keep it down the next time you go at it like rabbits? Some of us, and I’m not mentioning any names—” he hiked his thumb in Fox’s direction “—need our beauty Zs.”
“Some of us, and I’m not mentioning any names—” Baden pointed directly at Galen “—need a dagger through the heart.”
“Haven’t you heard? I don’t currently have a heart.” A tinge of bitterness seeped from his tone. “Word on the street is I’ve never had one.”
“Here’s an idea. Don’t tattle on your friends after helping them plan a B&E, ensuring they get caught. Don’t send human assassins after them when they curse you for your betrayal, and don’t complain when one of them gets a little some-some while you have to rely on old faithful.” He motioned to Galen’s right hand.
The warrior surprised him, laughing rather than attacking. “Are you fifteen? A little some-some. Really? That’s what we’re calling it now?”
He shrugged. He’d heard his friends call the act many ridiculous things.
“Also,” Galen added. “You need to work on forgiveness. Words hurt.”
“So do daggers.” To end the conversation, he flashed to the bedroom and placed the sandwich on the nightstand.
Katarina still slept. He was loath to disturb her, and yet need for her consumed him. He knew the bliss of her touch and now suspected there would never be a moment when he wouldn’t crave it.
He decided to distract himself by granting her a boon she hadn’t asked for...at the same time proving just how much she did, in fact, need him.
He made an adjustment in his mind. Because, according to Hades, he could always flash home. A loophole in the king’s plan to keep him contained. For the next few minutes, he considered Aleksander’s country estate his home. He flashed and stalked through the halls. Each of the male’s closest advisors and guards had a room, and he flashed in and out so swiftly, he went unnoticed. It was only a matter of time before he found Katarina’s brother, lying on a floor, a tourniquet tied to his arm, a needle sticking out of his vein.
The male was passed out, vomit pooling under his head. If he hadn’t been turned on his side, he would have suffocated to death already.
Kill. A command born of anger rather than a possible risk to their survival.
No. Despite everything the male had done to Katarina, she would mourn him. Or rather, mourn the boy he’d once been.
Baden grabbed him by the hair and flashed to the cell where he’d kept Aleksander. Where Aleksander’s severed hand still remained, he realized, allowing him to continuously flash without having to adjust his thought process. He then flashed in food, bottles of water and a bucket. Enough supplies to last a week.
He texted Torin to find out if anything else would be needed and ended up raiding a pharmacy to gather meds that would help with detoxing.
The male would get clean, whether he wanted to do so or not.
We’ll be rewarded? Destruction asked.
Yes, and Baden knew just what he wanted...
21
“I handle my problems the old-fashioned way. Gasoline and a match.”
—Kane, former keeper of Disaster
CAMEO’S MIND BUZZED with depressing statistics as she watched the clock. There were nearly two hundred million orphans in the world, and nearly fifteen percent of them would commit suicide