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Although, to be fair, Hades wasn’t William and Lucifer’s natural father. He’d claimed them through some sort of shady, supernatural adoption. But to be even fairer, that kind of made him worse.
Keeley called for that guy? Seriously?
“Don’t,” she begged. “Please, don’t do this.”
Hades had hurt her? No big surprise, and yet Torin cracked his knuckles. Whatever was done to her will be revisited on the male a hundredfold.
“Shh.” In an effort to calm her, Torin smoothed a gloved hand along the curve of her jaw. This isn’t for me—it’s for her.
Lying to myself now?
He marveled at the delicacy of her bones and had to fight against a thousand more waves of bliss, each headier than the last. “I’m here. Torin’s here. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, princess. I won’t let it.”
“I love you. You love me. Our wedding...please.”
He stiffened, several facts becoming crystal clear. Hades was the fiancé she’d mentioned. She’d actually planned a future with the guy. Had begged for it.
Jealousy. Yes, he felt it. Jealousy, and not indigestion. He could deny the truth no longer. However, he would not tolerate such an emotion. Keeley wasn’t his. She didn’t belong to him, and never would. Because even if they worked out their problems—not likely—he would never be able to satisfy her. What he had to offer would never be enough.
He’d learned that the hard way.
To watch discontent settle in her eyes? He would rather die.
Experienced enough humiliation on that front.
“Helpless,” she whispered. “So helpless. Trapped.”
“Shh,” he said again. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Torin?” Her head tipped toward him. Her arms floated along the surface of the water, brushing against the curling ends of her hair. Wet, the strands appeared honey-brown rather than blue.
Will look so pretty wrapped around my fist. I’ll angle her just right, take her mouth with a skill she’s never before encountered and—
Nothing.
He pushed out a ragged breath, only then realizing the water had cooled significantly.
Had her fever broken at last?
He lifted her out of the spring and eased her onto a patch of grass, tense with dread as he waited for the blades to wither. When one minute ticked into another and they remained lush and green, he relaxed.
His gaze slid over her. The color of her skin had vastly improved, the fever flush of red gone. But her dress was plastered to her skin, outlining every magnificent curve.
Tensing all over again...have to look away. But no matter how diligently he tried, his gaze remained glued to her. Her breasts were luscious, in need of kneading. Her nipples were beaded, practically begging to be sucked. Her stomach was concave, allowing water to settle inside her navel.
Water he could lick away.
Stop this. Wrong on every level.
Her legs were long and lithe, the perfect length to wrap around his waist. Or his shoulders. She had no scars or tattoos, her skin like mile after mile of cobalt silk.
The promise of sex seethed from her.
His already frayed control threatened to snap.
No! He scrubbed a hand down his face, at last breaking the spell she’d somehow woven. Yeah. Blame her. Idiot! What the hell was wrong with him? She was sick, possibly dying, and he was scheming on her?
I suck.
Get her well. Then get rid of her. Afterward he could continue his search to find Cameo and Viola with a clear conscience.
Like the Terrible Trio, Viola had been incarcerated in Tartarus at the wrong time and had received one of the leftover demons. He shuddered. She’d gotten Narcissism. The worst of the worst. Viola was a flat-out nightmare to be around, but she was also part of his family.
A man protected his family.
Mari had been Keeley’s only family, he thought. And I took her away.
He owed the Curator more than vengeance. He owed her another family. But there was no way he could introduce a carrier to innocents. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel with a rocket-propelled grenade.
His friends, on the other hand... They knew how to deal with carriers. They’d been dealing with Torin for centuries, and not one of them had ever gotten sick. They were experts at evading him. Maybe they could be Keeley’s family—he wouldn’t have to kill her.
The idea...did not repel him.
She threatened their safety.
Yes, but Torin knew she wouldn’t hurt them. He’d seen the core of honor underneath her rage.
She might even find a measure of happiness with the group. Two of his friends were dating Harpies, a race of females known for causing massive bloodshed...and for making grown men pee their pants in fear. That had to be dream best-friend material for Keys. And, not that it mattered, none of the males would make a play for her; everyone was taken.
Well, except for William the Ever Randy, who lived with them, but the guy had been watching his ward, Gilly, a lot more intently lately. Girl was a human and due to turn eighteen very, very soon.
Torin wasn’t sure what would happen between the two the day of her birthday—he just knew something would happen.
Not important. Keeley would probably protest the move to Budapest. Probably? Ha! But he would have to find a way to convince her to do it. Because there was no better solution...and no other way he could keep her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CAMEO, THE KEEPER of Misery, jimmied the lock on the back of an old ice cream truck. Rusty hinges creaked as the door swung open. She jumped inside the vehicle and dug through the freezer on each side until all of her fingers were numb from cold. Surely she would find what she was looking for— Curses!
