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The Darkest Whisper

The Darkest Whisper (Lords of the Underworld #4)(73)
Author: Gena Showalter

My fault, he thought. Again. He began to fall…fall…twisting and turning. Crashing.

TORIN LEANED BACK in his chair, hands locked behind his head, feet propped on his desk. He’d been glued here for days, barely leaving to eat, shower or, hell, live. Cameo hadn’t come to see him since the night of her return, and maybe that was for the best. He couldn’t concentrate when she was near and he had more work on his plate than ever before.

He kept the warriors well-moneyed, playing with stocks and bonds. He monitored the surrounding area for intruders. He made all travel arrangements. He researched any leads on Pandora’s box, the artifacts or the Hunters. He was even scouring news sites for any sign of a man-with-wings sighting. Aka Galen. To the best of Torin’s knowledge, Galen and Aeron were the only warriors who possessed the means of flight.Torin didn’t mind his many jobs because he had the time to do it all; he never left the fortress. To do so could quite possibly kill everyone in the world. So dramatic, he thought dryly. But true. One touch of his skin against another’s was all that was needed to jumpstart a plague. Last one he’d started, thanks to the Hunters, had been here in Buda. At least it had been contained by doctors before it could do too much damage.

But, oh, how he wanted to touch Cameo. Would have given anything for the chance. He pictured her in his mind. Small, slender, that long dark hair, those sad gray eyes.

Would he still want her if he could have his pick of women? he found himself wondering for the thousandth time that day. Would he still want her if he could touch anyone he wished? Go into town anytime? As a man, yeah, he’d want her. She was pretty, smart, amusing if you got past her suicidal voice. But anything permanent? He just didn’t know. Because…his gaze strayed to the monitor to his left.

Every so often he would catch a glimpse of a beautiful woman walking through town. Long black hair, exotic eyes that were bright one moment and glazed the next. She’d pause in her stride, smile, frown, then kick back into gear. When the wind caressed her, ruffling her hair, Torin would catch the barest hint of…pointed ears? Whether he was seeing things or not, the sight of those ears made him hard as a rock. He had the strangest urge to lick them.

She wore a T-shirt that said Nixie’s IAD House O’ Fun, and she had earbuds in her ears. What was a Nixie? A quick Google search and he figured it—she?—was some sort of Immortal After Dark. Interesting. Because he’d like nothing more than to explore her after dark.

What type of music was she listening to? Judging by the brisk nod of her head, it was something fast and hard. Where had she come from? What was she? Delicious, I bet…

Lusting after the strange woman had shaken him, sent those questions about Cameo spiraling through him. If he could desire another, he wasn’t in love with Cameo. And if he wasn’t in love with her, was it cruel of him to mess around with her? Would he eventually hurt her? Hurt himself?

He’d never be able to touch her, and as passionate as she was, she would eventually need a man who could. He’d never had to worry about these things before because he’d never been with a woman. Not even before his possession. He’d been too busy then, too involved in his job. Maybe he needed to join Workaholics Anonymous, he thought dryly. He had to be the only millennia-old virgin in history.

One of his monitors flashed, and he gave it a detailed scan. Nothing out of the ordinary. No sign of his pointy-eared brunette, either. Another question popped into his head: if Cameo weren’t worried about her demon inflicting untold misery upon a human, would she have chosen another man to dally with?

At the thought of her with another man, there was no intense surge of jealousy, as a taken male should feel. Okay, so there was more confirmation. Much as he adored her, much as he craved her sexually, much as he couldn’t resist her when she stepped inside this room, he wouldn’t have chosen her had circumstances been different.

Damn. What kind of moron was he?

To his right, there was a flash of azure light. Torin twisted to face it, dread already pooling in his stomach. Cronus.

Sure enough, when the light faded, the god king was standing in the middle of Torin’s bedroom. “Hello again, Disease,” said that imperial voice. A white robe draped one of Cronus’s deceptively fragile-looking shoulders and flowed to his ankles. On his feet were leather sandals. What always struck Torin was the clawlike curve of the immortal’s toenails. They just didn’t fit with the man’s old world nobility.

“Your Lordship.” Torin didn’t stand, as he knew Cronus expected. Already this god had too much power over him and his friends. He would keep what he could. Even this, so small a thing.

“Have you been searching for the possessed prisoners as I commanded?”

Torin studied him more intently. Something was different about the god. He looked…younger, maybe. His silver beard wasn’t as thick as usual, and there were streaks of blond mixed with his white hair. If the heavenly sovereign had been going for Botox and highlights, he should have had time for a pedicure.

“Well?”

Wait. What did Cronus want to know? Oh, yeah. “Some of the warriors have been searching for them, yes.”

A muscle ticked in the king’s jaw. “Not good enough. I want the other possessed men and women found as soon as possible.”

Well, Torin wanted to touch a female skin to skin without killing her, or in the case of an immortal, ruining the rest of her endless existence. Not everyone got what they wanted, did they? “Our hands are a little full at the moment.”

Silver eyes narrowed on him. “Un-fill them.”

As if it were that easy. “Wouldn’t matter if I had all the time in the world. Some of the names have been removed from the list, so there’s no way I’ll be able to find them all.”

There was a pause. Then, “I removed them. You did not need those names.”

O-kay. “Why?”

“So many questions, demon. So little action. Find the possessed or suffer my wrath. That is all you need know. I am not asking for the impossible. I have given you the names you require. Now all you must do is find them. You can identify them by the butterflies tattooed on their bodies.” There at the end, the god’s tone had been dry. Almost…amused.

Again, as if it were that easy. “Why butterflies, anyway?” he grumbled, knowing it would do no good to argue. No one was more stubborn than Cronus. But he also knew that Cronus needed him to find and contain Galen. What he didn’t know—what nobody knew—was why the god king couldn’t do so on his own. Cronus wasn’t exactly forthcoming.

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