The Darkest Touch
Page 57“By the way,” he said. “Whatever you’re doing to the warrior, keep it up. I’ve never seen him so riled.”
Please. “He’s not riled. He’s as calm and cold as, well, something that’s calm and cold.”
“No. He watches you. A storm is brewing inside that boy, and one day, it will break free. I have a feeling you’ll both be happier for it.”
The light mist finally stopped, the sun shining.
“You want him happy?” she asked.
“I never said that,” he huffed.
Another twig snapped.
“Go,” she said, shooing with her hands. But Galen didn’t move fast enough, and she had to flash him a few yards away as Torin burst into their camp. Such an act might have seemed like a betrayal to Torin, and she knew he would not like it. But it wasn’t a betrayal—it was a safety precaution. No fight meant no injuries.
No injuries meant no picking sides.
“Someone was here,” he said, his voice lashing like a whip. He looked left, right. “Did he threaten you? Attack you?”
There’s a chance this man has been watching me.
A chance a storm is brewing inside of him.
Silent, he searched the camp perimeter for the culprit, and as he did so, the sun glowed a thousand times more brightly.
“Let’s go,” he said. “The edge of the realm is only an hour away.”
Found it already? Without her?
Panic budded, only to fade. He could have left her behind, but hadn’t. Galen had to be right.
The satisfaction intensified as she popped to her feet and motioned Torin forward. “I’m ready.”
Scowling, he took the lead. They made it to the edge of the realm an hour later, just as predicted, and because she had kept a lock on Galen, she was able to ensure he wasn’t far behind.
And, okay, yeah, that wasn’t exactly a safety precaution. But she liked Galen and owed him for taking care of those demon-possessed crazies. Surely Torin would understand. One day. After he’d thrown a massive man-fit.
He looked over his shoulder and frowned at her. Why? What was he thinking?
She opened the doorway and, after he unlocked it, stepped through. She stayed close to his heels.
Honk!
A busy interaction of cars suddenly surrounded them, a vehicle swerving to avoid hitting them, then swerving again to avoid a crash with another vehicle. It ended up smashing into a pole.
Dread quickly replaced her satisfaction. Everything was about to change. All too soon, Torin would meet up with the other Lords. Men and women he loved. Keeley would do as she’d promised, finding the missing girls, the spirit, and the box. Torin would do as he’d promised, pleasuring her, and then they would part ways. He would no longer need her.
But I’ll still need him.
Foolish thoughts, steeped in fear of failure. Only setting myself up to quit.
Never! Her fight for his heart wasn’t over yet. There’s time.
More honking horns. Torin yanked her to a sidewalk, away from the traffic. Someone bumped into her. A female. The look she gave Keeley, as if Keeley had just been scraped off the bottom of her shoe, only to shift her attention to Torin and gasp, caused a droplet of anger to splash through Keeley.
“I am royalty,” she snapped as the ground shook.
Firm fingers shifted through her hair, and she whipped around to face Torin.
“Yes,” he said. “You certainly are.”
He hadn’t noticed the female; he only had eyes for Keeley—and he was touching her, willingly, happily.
“The strands are like honey,” he said, his awe unmistakable.
Her heart tangoed with her ribs. The color of her hair had changed again, the tresses now a glistening golden-blond. “Summer,” she replied, breathless, knowing her eyes glittered a pure baby blue.
“Really?” Smudged by dirt, wearing a tattered T-shirt and sweatpants, without shoes, she had to be disgustingly haggard. Or worse—average. The human woman had certainly seemed to think so.
“Really. I—” He stiffened, glared at his gloved hand as if it were a toddler who’d disobeyed its daddy, and dropped it. “We’re on my turf, princess. I’ll have rules for you.”
Rules? “You’re kidding, right? I obey no one but myself, and even that’s iffy.” Someone else bumped into her. A male this time.
Torin scowled and pushed him. “Apologize or die.”
“S-sorry, ma’am. So sorry.” The guy scampered away.
“Ma’am?” she shouted, hoping to mask the inner melting Torin’s fierce reaction had caused. “Am I wearing mom jeans? I don’t think so!”
Torin gave his palm another hard glare. Then, scowl returning, he twined his fingers with Keeley’s and tugged her down the sidewalk. Shock! He’s holding my hand now. We’re actually holding hands. Like, our fingers are woven together and everything.
“The rules,” Torin said. “You don’t look at other men. You don’t talk to them. You don’t lust after them.”
Done. Done. Done. Shouldn’t appear too eager. “Why?”
“I don’t want to deal with another plague.”
And a plague would break out because...he would put his hands on anyone she desired...would hurt them?