He’d left camp without the handgun or the rifle, he realized. He’d have to use his dagger. Fine. Whatever. A battle would do him some good. He scaled one of the trees, positioned himself for attack, and whistled.

All of the creatures stiffened. The biggest one turned and bounded over to search for the culprit—and that’s when Torin computed the truth. He wasn’t dealing with any kind of deer; he was dealing with something else entirely. An amalgamation of a lion, demon, gorilla and honey badger don’t care.

Torin went quiet. Maybe I can escape notice.

Of course, that’s when the creature looked up and met his gaze. Neon-red against otherworldly green.

Too late.

Here goes nothing, he thought—and jumped.

* * *

SNAPPING TWIGS ALERTED Keeley to an impending visitor. Hades’s minions at last?

Angry muttering let her know exactly who that visitor was, and it wasn’t a horde of demons. Perhaps a little too excitedly considering his parting words, she pushed to her feet and smoothed the tank and camo pants she’d found inside the backpack, ready to face Torin.

He broke through a wall of foliage and spotted her. He stopped abruptly, his gaze raking over her, narrowing—and erupting with heat.

She waited for the praise to begin.

“There was a storm while I was gone,” he said.

Okay. Not the opener she’d hoped for, but not a total loss, either. “Yes.” As long as she’d been alive, she’d learned to work any conversation in the direction she wanted. “The rain caused flowers to bloom, much like—”

“Even though it didn’t last,” he interjected.

“Correct.” Because it hadn’t sprung from the realm, but from her. “Much like my bath caused—”

“You didn’t drown.”

Argh! “No.” She traced a hand down her side and rushed out, “Me to bloom” before he could interrupt her again. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He looked her over a second time and shrugged. “I guess.”

He guessed?

Disappointment struck.

She returned the once-over, thinking she needed to insult him. Like for like. But she became snagged by the scowl darkening his features and found she wanted only to calm him. “Are you okay?” she asked. He had scratches all over his neck and arms, and in his hand was the leg of the Nephilim he’d been dragging.

“I’m fine. Here’s dinner,” he said, throwing the creature at the fire she’d built. “You don’t have to worry about getting sick because I’ve touched him. The disease died with him.”

“Backtrack just a bit. You don’t have to worry...as in me?” She thumped her chest for emphasis. “I don’t have to worry?”

“Yes, you. You cook. We eat.”

Because of Hades and his poison, she only ever ate what she found.

“Meanwhile,” Torin added, “I need to bathe.”

Bathe? “No!” she shouted. “Don’t go near the spring.” Not yet. It would kill the hello-how-are-you vibe they had going.

He frowned and, like the stubborn, obstinate warrior he was proving to be, stalked to the spring. “Seriously?” he bellowed.

“Well.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “Two of the prisoners you released showed up, and even though I was a perfectly mediocre hostess, they thought they’d evict me—after they finished ravishing me.” The reason for the storm. “They found me irresistible,” she grumbled.

He scanned the campsite, and she wished she possessed the ability to alter a person’s perception. A mess of blood and guts surrounded him. Thankfully the spring had some kind of filtering system and was no longer...chunky.

“You killed them before they touched you?” he asked.

“I’m the undefeatable Red Queen. What do you think?” The awful look in their eyes as they’d approached her, coupled with the disgusting words coming out of their mouths, had angered her to the point of no return.

“Good.” Torin bent down to pinch what looked to be a piece of a small intestine between his gloved fingers. He flung the thing into the farthest tangle of trees. “I think they got what they deserved.”

He wasn’t afraid of her power, wasn’t running from her—but then, when had he ever?

Want him more than ever.

“Now,” she said to distract herself. “About dinner. I’ve already prepared you a feast. Sorry, but there are no roasted entrails.”

She’d heard the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. Which was an odd saying, because she’d punched her way through many a male torso, and she knew for a fact that the way to a heart was through the fourth and fifth ribs, but she understood the spirit of the phrase. If she could soften Torin’s emotions toward her, maybe she could more easily tempt him to pleasure her.

He owes me, after all. Hadn’t he made her sad? Wasn’t he obligated to make her happy? Only way to completely clear his ledger.

“I know I’m not overselling this when I say you’re about to have the best dining experience of your life.” Approaching Torin, she held up a stone plate piled high with goodies. “You’re welcome.”

He grimaced as he looked over her offering. “Twigs. Leaves. Mushrooms. Bugs? Pass.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, please, and thank you.”

“Take it as a no.”

“A soft no? Like absomaybe?”