The Darkest Touch

A scowling Sienna materialized beside Paris. “Everyone’s on a beach,” she announced. She glared at Keeley. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Won’t roll my eyes. “Or what? You’ll make me regret it? Please. You can do nothing. You’re hemorrhaging power, darling, and have been for a good while, it seems.” Probably the reason she couldn’t flash the Unspoken Ones away. “Don’t bother trying to deny it. I can feel it seeping out of you.”

Sienna’s olive skin became a sickly chalk white.

“What’s she talking about, baby?” Paris asked.

“It’s jumping ship,” Keeley continued, “and I know why. It’s not yours, it’s Cronus’s. Meaning it hasn’t bonded to you. You’ll have to fix that if you hope to survive.”

“Is that a threat?” Paris pointed a semiautomatic at Keeley’s chest. “Because I don’t react well to threats to my girl.”

Torin stepped in front of Keeley and batted the gun away. “There’s no time for this. And I shouldn’t have to issue another warning, but I will. Don’t threaten my girl, or I will put a bullet in your head.”

I’m his. Torin’s. “And while you’re recovering,” Keeley said, “we’ll shave off all your hair.”

Paris backed up, horrified, and patted his multicolored locks.

Feeling magnanimous, Keeley added, “I’ll allow you to question me about your female once the Unspoken Ones are dead. If you apologize to Torin for threatening his girl.” Me. That’s me.

“Respectfully question,” Torin added.

Paris gave a stiff nod. “I’m...sorry.”

Keeley flattened her palm on Torin’s back. He tensed at first but soon relaxed. Then he whirled around, his gaze hotly intense.

“Stay safe,” he commanded.

For you? Always. “Ditto.” Want to kiss him.

Can’t kiss him. Not now. But later...it might just be worth the risk.

The warriors ran off in different directions, some going upstairs, some down, all taking their places at windows and firing at the enemy. Too little, too late. The front door burst open, shards of wood and metal shooting through the foyer like missiles, slamming into several living targets.

A female rushed inside the foyer. And, oh. Oh, wow. Ugly had a new poster child. Rather than a nose and mouth, she had a beak. Like a rabid bird. She wore a leather shirt, but Keeley wasn’t sure why the creature had bothered to pull it on. The material that should have covered the crests of her breasts had been cut out. Her nipples were pierced with diamonds. A leather skirt wrapped around her muscular waist and thighs.

The Unspoken One turned left, then right, studying her new surroundings. Small horns protruded from her spine, clear liquid leaking from the tips. Poison?

The warriors who’d stayed in the living room opened fire on her, but the bullets had no effect. She even caught the rocket-propelled grenade, crushing it in her hand as it detonated. As white-hot air and sharp debris blasted throughout the room. Keeley flashed every warrior but Torin into another part of the fortress, out of harm’s way.

Stupid brimstone! How was she supposed to safeguard him at a moment’s notice?

He dropped to the floor, then popped to his feet relatively unharmed.

A loud scuffle upstairs. Definitely violent. Should she interfere?

In a lightning-fast move, the female Unspoken One reached behind her back, ripped off one of her own horns and tossed it at Keeley. Torin slammed into her side, knocking her out of the way. The horn soared over both their shoulders.

My hero!

But Keeley’s anger returned—and in greater force. Beak Face had almost hurt her man.

The fortress shook so intensely dust rose from the foundation.

As Keeley wrangled with her anger, Beak Face flashed to her, grabbed her by the shoulders and pitched her across the room. Not to kill her, but to get her out of the way. She picked Torin up by the neck, not understanding what the action would cost her, and grinned over at Keeley, all watch me, watch what I will do to the one you defend.

Shaking, shaking. Thunder.

Keeley pushed to her feet and strode forward, summoning two daggers along the way. Going to gut her!

“Torin,” she said.

He let the Unspoken One hold the bulk of his weight as he wrapped his legs around her waist. They toppled over, and he absorbed the impact even while reaching up, breaking her wrist and loosening her hold. He punched the heel of his palm into her beak. With a screech, she scrambled away from him. Blood poured down her face.

His victory did nothing to dampen Keeley’s emotions. They were already engaged, her power seething, desperate for release.

“Keeley,” Torin shouted over the noise.

“Keep her occupied,” she instructed, then flashed to the horn. Mine. My prize. She grabbed it and flashed to a remote, unoccupied island in the South Atlantic.

Power exploded from her in a familiar burst, lifting her off her feet, rocking the entire island. A volcano crumbled, lava having nowhere to go but...everywhere. Large cracks appeared in the ground, a web of destruction. She inhaled smoke and coughed.

When she quieted, the worst of her rage poured into the wreckage, she returned to the fortress. If something bad happened while I was gone...

Torin and the Unspoken One were not where she’d left them. She flashed upstairs. Another fiend claimed her attention. He had a chest covered in scars and legs covered by carmine fur. Dark menace radiated from him as he roared and batted at Lucien, who swung a sword at him before flashing behind and swinging the sword from a different angle.