“Excellent.” Hades anchored the chain around his wrist, regarding Baden with something akin to anger. “Did you hurt the Harpies?”

“No. There was no need.”

Hades relaxed, but only slightly. “Every detail. Now.”

The story spilled from him, ending with the shadows chasing the Harpies away.

“The shadows...they are minions of Corruption, yes?” A demon High Lord with the ability to mate with any willing human spirit. He derived pleasure only when he ruined a good person.

Hades worked two fingers over his stubbly jaw, as if debating his next words. “They are, their evil conceived inside the human heart.”

Destruction had gotten it right. And now, without the heat of battle, he was...not pleased. He bore the seed of Corruption in his flesh.

“Why so grim?” Hades asked. “The wreaths make you immune to their particular brand of feeding. They only wish to protect you, their host. And to consume your enemies, of course.”

True—for now. But Corruption, like any evil, would one day turn on its host. That was a guarantee. “What happens when I win your game and the wreaths are removed?”

An enigmatic smile. “You still won’t have to worry.”

Because he wouldn’t survive the removal?

No. He and Hades shared a bond, and neither of them could deny it. The answer, whatever it was, simply wasn’t clear to him yet.

“Pippin.” Hades brushed a piece of lint from his knee. “Did I decide to punish or forgive my charges for breaking the rules and fighting with each other?”

“Forgive, sire.”

Hades’s shoulders rolled in with disappointment. “Very well. I never refute my own decisions.”

“Except for the ones you refute, sire.”

“This is true. You get me, Pippin. It’s why I haven’t fired you today.”

“We still have several hours to go, sire.”

Baden butted in, saying, “Give me another task.”

Hades regarded him for a moment. “So eager to defeat Pandora?”

“So eager to defeat Lucifer.”

Approval glinted in the king’s black eyes. “We’re closer to victory every day.” With a flick of his fingers, he waved Baden away. “Go now. Rest while you can.”

There was no rest for the wicked. He had another piece of business to attend to—severing Katarina’s tie to Aleksander at long last.

Baden wouldn’t kill him. Katarina wanted the male locked away forever, and so he would be locked away forever. In return for sparing Aleksander’s life, Baden would insist the male disavow her, in effect divorcing her. In their world, it would be enough, a man’s word his bond.

He flashed to the dungeon beneath the fortress in Budapest and—

Both the man and chains were missing.

Damn it! The bastard hadn’t been freed with the All-key. Torin would never betray him. Baden knew that with every fiber of his being, which shamed him as he remembered the times he hadn’t trusted Torin and the others. Times he would remember when he looked at Fox, he was sure, and considered the ramifications of hosting Distrust. The darkest days of his life. So dark he’d preferred death.

Now he had the bands, and the shadows, making him even more dangerous than before. And yet, he had no desire to end his life. He would fight for what he wanted.

He would fight for Katarina. Right now, she was his one bright light. He’d spoken true: he couldn’t lose her.

But she was still married, a tie he wouldn’t be breaking as soon as he’d expected. Fury... Someone must have found the key to the chains in the rubble of the fortress. Someone with the ability to flash...or even just the ability to flash to Aleksander specifically.

Pandora! Her name was a scourge inside his mind; Destruction roared.

She would pay. Baden, too, possessed the ability to flash to Aleksander, which meant he’d just missed the male’s escape; otherwise he would have ended up somewhere else. He palmed a dagger in each hand and flashed—

To the center of a busy highway. A horn blasted, a truck seconds from hitting him. Bitch was trying to get him killed without breaking the rules. He flashed as the vehicle clipped his arm, ending up spinning to a stop inside a woman’s locker room.

Half-dressed females who were already worked up about Pandora and Aleksander gasped and screamed and threw towels and shoes at him. He flashed again, this time appearing in a graffiti-ridden alley.

A series of pops rang out...until a click, click signaled an empty clip. He ducked, one of the bullets managing to graze his collarbone. Another memory he hadn’t lived knocked on the door of his mind, but this time, he had no problem ignoring it, his will growing stronger.