The Darkest Touch - Page 38/124

Did a friend or foe wait inside? “Do you know the owner?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably? You don’t know?”

“Warrior, my mind is like a corkboard. I have millions of memories pinned to it. Pictures, conversations, plans, battles, hopes, dreams, pains, sorrows, and sometimes information gets lost. Sometimes, there’s too much and I have to store certain years in a Time Out box.”

How...adorable.

Hell. “Whatever. Let me handle this,” he said, moving ahead.

“Are you sure that’s wise? This particular realm is filled with a race of giants.”

“Strengths? Weaknesses?”

“Yes. They have them.”

He rolled his eyes. “What are they?”

“I just told you. Giants.”

“And you’re the smart one of our little duo? Princess, I meant what are the strengths and weaknesses of the giants.”

“Oh. Well, you should have made that more clear. But you didn’t, so the mistake is yours. Anyway. Their strength is, of course, in their size. Their weakness is in their joints. They carry so much weight their joints deteriorate quickly.”

Well, all right, then. He knocked on the door. He tightened his hold on his dagger, ready to go for the giant’s knees. There was no reason to use his guns and draw unwanted attention from anyone who happened to be nearby.

Hammering footsteps. Screaming hinges as the door opened. Torin had to look up, up, up. A Mack Truck of a man stood in front of him—a giant to other giants.

“You must not have gotten the memo, human. I enjoy hunting my food.” Mack Truck’s voice boomed like thunder. “I don’t like my meals to show up on my doorstep. Takes all the fun out of it.”

“I don’t know about my companion,” Keeley said, toying with a lock of her hair, “but I’m so sweet I’m just certain I’d make a great dessert.”

Mack Truck looked at her and squealed like a frightened little girl. “You!”

“I’d say he knows you,” Torin muttered.

“Probable victim of the Time Out box,” she allowed.

“I refused to spy for you, so you ripped out one of my kidneys and made me eat it,” Mack Truck said through chattering teeth.

“And I’m sure you loved it. As for today, I’m here to—”

“Make me eat the other one, just like you vowed,” he blurted. “I know!” He didn’t wait for her reply, but barreled outside and ran. Just ran.

Torin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a feeling this is going to be a common occurrence with you.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, because I totally meant it as a compliment. Wait here while I check for any other occupants.”

“Wait here? You do know I’m the creature the boogeyman hides from, right?”

“And you know the boogeyman is a douche, right?” Dude liked to ring doorbells and hide in bushes.

“Right. But nevertheless.”

Oh, this girl. “I do know you are one scary-ass female, but your particular skill set will be a last resort.” If she had to fight, she would destroy the house and everything in it, and he was looking forward to three things: a decent meal, a soft bed and, in his fantasies, a willing woman. “Just pretend I’m your humble servant and seeing to your every comfort.”

“Ha! It’s not like we entered Impossible is Finally Possible Realm.”

Dude. He wasn’t that bad.

Torin stalked through the massive living room, even more massive kitchen, and are-you-kidding-me-with-this bedroom. Animal heads hung from the walls, their beady eyes surveying his every move. Most were creatures he’d never before seen—and never wanted to see again. At least no one living waited in the shadows.

On his way back to the foyer, he discovered Keeley had not only entered the house but had also made herself at home in the kitchen, the backpack resting at her feet.

“Did you misunderstand the meaning of wait here?” he asked, filling two bowls with the soup simmering on the stove. A clear broth with what looked to be a variety of vegetables. No meat had been added—yet. Next to the pot rested a giant slab of something; it was as black as tar and must have come from a diseased animal.

Or the humans Mack Truck liked to hunt.

Torin threw it out the window and washed his gloves before stalking to the table. He caught the scent of autumn leaves and cinnamon, and tensed. The sweet fragrance came from Keeley, as if she’d just sprayed herself with Obsession by Mother Nature; it was as different and tantalizing as her new appearance, filling his head and his lungs, bringing with it a fog of dizzying arousal.

Have to get my hands on her. Soon.

Never.

He set her bowl in front of her, then plopped into his seat with a hard thud.

Disease banged against his skull.

“I didn’t misunderstand,” Keeley finally said. “You, however, are under the laughable misconception that you can give me orders.” She played with the food, never actually taking a bite. “By the way, I’ll let you...but only in bed. A girl has to draw a line somewhere.”

He gripped the arms of his chair with deadly force, the effort to remain in place, away from her, gut-wrenching. Sweat trickled down his temples. His heart nearly burst free of his chest. “Eat. And we will never end up in bed, Keys. That’s a promise. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”

“I know,” she grumbled, swirling her spoon around the broth, “but that doesn’t make abstinence any easier.”