The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(39)
Author: Gena Showalter

"Don’t threaten her," Ashlyn said with a shake of her head. "I’ve taken this type of drug before. I’ll be fine."

"She – "

"Hasn’t done anything wrong." Ashlyn wasn’t sure where she acquired the bravery. She only knew it was there, unwilling to let Maddox bluster and intimidate.

He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew that now – a fact she still had trouble grasping. Beyond the miracle of making the voices stop, this harsh man had tenderly seen to her needs. He hadn’t bolted when she’d vomited, as most would have done. He’d stayed with her, caring for her, holding her close, as if she were precious.

As wonderfully as he might have treated her, however, Ashlyn didn’t know what he was capable of doing to someone else. She knew what he looked capable of doing: any dark deed, every evil deed. But there was no way she’d let him hurt Danika, who had also helped her.

"Ashlyn," he said on a sigh.

"Maddox."

His fingers stilled, splayed on her stomach. Thankfully, he didn’t move away. She could have rested in his arms forever. Truly, no one, not even McIntosh, had ever made her feel so special.

She only vaguely remembered her parents. They hadn’t coddled her like this, either. Actually, they’d been more than happy to get rid of their crying, screaming little girl. A little girl who’d constantly begged for the voices to stop, never allowing the people around her to sleep or work or relax.

She’d known the very day they’d decided to give her away, though she hadn’t understood at the time. She’d walked into their bedroom and the entire conversation had unfolded in her mind.

I can’t take care of her anymore. She’s too much to handle. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think.

We can’t just abandon her, but damn it. I can’t take any more, either. The crying never stops.

I want a normal life again, you know? Like before she was born. Pause. I did some research and found a place that could help her. I… called them. They want to meet her. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe they can give her what we can’t.

They’d sent her to Institute the day after her fifth birthday. There, she’d become known as "subject." Needles, electrodes and monitors became her daily companions, not to mention fear and loneliness and pain. The day she became "Ashlyn" in the eyes of the staff was three years later, when they learned how to use her ability to their advantage.

That was the day McIntosh had stepped into her life.

He’d been an ambitious young parapsychologist, quickly climbing the ranks thanks to his vision, drive and sheer passion for his work. He’d accompanied her to every location the voices led her to, had even stood beside her while she listened, writing down everything she uttered.

Afterward, he would research what she’d heard and tell her of the results – like the time she’d heard about a vampire intent on draining an entire town. The Institute had been able to find and stop him, and eventually study him. Times like that, she had felt special, gifted, like the characters he read about every night.

"Ashlyn," Maddox repeated. Their gazes locked and his eyes blazed with violet fire. "Say my name again."

"Maddox."

His eyes closed for a split second, and for that all-too-quick moment he wore an expression of utter rapture. "I like when you say it."

She liked the joy he drew from something so simple. A shiver slipped along the ridges of her spine. But in the next flash – that all-too-quick moment now passed – his countenance returned to normal. That hint of pleasure vanished from his features, as if he didn’t trust himself with the emotion.

"Danika will – "

"Get me some water," Ashlyn finished for him. "For the pills."

"Yes. I’ll get it." Danika picked up the empty glass from the floor. She stumbled into the bathroom. The sound of running water filled Ashlyn’s ears, then Danika was standing beside her again, holding out the glass.

Once again, Maddox confiscated it. He aimed a suspicious look at Danika, then raised Ashlyn’s head and held the cup to her lips. She tossed the pills onto her tongue and swallowed a mouthful of cool, refreshing liquid. Everything slid down her welcoming throat with only the slightest hint of soreness.

"Thank you," she told them.

"It’s done, then. I’ll escort the girl back to Lucien," Aeron finally said, his voice so harsh it nearly rubbed her eardrums raw.

"The girl’ has a name," Danika snapped.

"What is it? Lippy?" he muttered, grabbing her arm and tugging her from the room. Obviously, the man had no manners and no idea how to treat a woman.

If Ashlyn really decided to stay here, she’d have to fix that. "Wait!" she called.

They didn’t.

"Is she going to be okay?"

There was a slight hesitation. "Yes," Maddox said.

"Good," she said, her voice echoing off the walls. That was the moment she realized she was alone with Maddox. Of course, that was also the moment she became aware of the awful taste in her mouth. God, she must look like roadkill, and smell worse. Mortification heated her cheeks. "I, uh, need to use the bathroom."

"I’ll help." He scooped her up as if she were merely a bag of feathers, and stood. She wrapped her arms around his neck, his strength and warmth flooding all the way to her bones.

He carried her past the threshold and stopped in the center of the bathroom. Suspecting he meant to stay, she shook her head and fought a wave of dizziness. "I can do it on my own."

"You might fall."

She might, but there was no way she was going to let him stay with her, watching. "I’m fine."

His expression was doubtful, but he said, "Call if you need me. I’ll be waiting right outside the door." He slowly inched her legs down the hard span of his body.

Her feet hit the floor and her knees almost crumpled. I will not fall, I freaking will not fall. She reached around Maddox and grabbed the doorknob, using it to hold herself steady. "Back up, please," she said.

He did – but he didn’t go happily. When he stood outside, she shut the thick, polished wood in his face.

"Five minutes," he said.

She flipped the lock, muttering, "I’ll take as long as I need."

"No, you will not. In five minutes, I’m coming in whether you’re done or not. The lock means nothing."

"Stubborn."

"Concerned."

Sweet. With a half smile, she rinsed off as best she could and used one of the toothbrushes she found in the cabinet to clean her teeth. Twice she almost fell. She made use of the facilities, brushed the tangles from her hair, and decided, after studying her pale reflection in the mirror, that there was nothing more she could do for her appearance without spackle.