The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(55)
Author: Gena Showalter

Women tended to run screaming from him – if he didn’t run screaming first.

He didn’t mean to, but he made them doubt themselves in every way imaginable. Their life choices, their appearance, their everything. They cried. Always. Sometimes they tried to kill themselves. And he just couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take the guilt that came with his unstoppable actions. So now he stayed away. Far, far away.

Sabin tamped down a wave of regret. Night had fallen and he could see the twinkling city lights. The moon was full, bright and clear. A golden beacon in the black velvet sky. Cold air wisped inside, dancing the sheer white curtains against the wall.

A night for lovers.

Or death.

"Where are the Hunters now?" he asked.

"Meeting at a club, according to my source. I already checked it out, and it’s about five minutes from here," Strider said.

Sabin had wanted to be at the cemetery, but now he wanted to be at the club. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be in both places at once. In an echo of the choice that had faced him centuries ago, he again found himself torn between Hunters and his old friends.

He gave the room another inspection, as if the answer was hiding somewhere in the shadows. "I need one of you to go to the cemetery tonight. Fully armed. I did my best to draw the warriors there. You can decide what to do if you see them. The rest of us will visit the club."

"I’ll take the cemetery," Kane said. He didn’t sound excited. Rather, he sounded resigned. "The club might collapse if I go."

True.

A chunk of plaster chose that moment to dislodge from the wall and slam into Kane’s skull. Good thing the man had a mane of thick tabby-cat hair to soften the blow. As it was, he winced.

Sabin sighed. "If all goes well, we might get the answers we’ve been waiting for and finally, once and for all, be able to destroy Pandora’s box." Before the Hunters find it and suck our demons back inside, killing us. "Now let’s move out."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Damn, damn, damn.

Time had gotten away from him. Maddox had become completely absorbed as he’d placed traps along the hill: pits to fall into, trip wires, nets. Should have done it long before today, but they hadn’t wanted to hurt any of the deliverymen bearing supplies or the women who came looking for Paris.

Every time Maddox had thought he was done, Lucien had given him another task.

Now it was eleven-thirty, and there was no time to see Ashlyn. No time to kiss or hold her. If he decided to see her again, he thought darkly. After his outburst today, he’d be a fool to ever approach such an innocent again. Still, he wanted to be near her. Craved it. Surely there was a way. So far, he’d kept himself under control around her.

But what happened when she pushed him past the edge of reason? When, not if. What would he do when the spirit erupted, as it inevitably would?

"May the gods smile on us this night," Lucien muttered.

Maddox, Reyes and Lucien raced through the intricate hallways of the fortress toward Maddox’s bedroom. Always better to chain him early. Less chance for destruction that way. His stomach already ached.

Reyes had already grabbed the sword – the very one Maddox had used to slay Pandora all those years ago. It hung at the warrior’s side, glinting in the moonlight that seeped through the windows, taunting Maddox even now.

He passed Lucien’s bedroom and brushed his fingertips over the door. Ashlyn was inside. What was she doing? Was she thinking of him?

They rounded a corner, closer…closer… I’m not ready, the spirit whined. A first, since the bloodlust always sated it. Maddox wasn’t ready to die, either. Not this time.

Footsteps echoed, an ominous war beat.

He passed the last window in the hallway, the largest. It looked over the hill, down onto the snowcapped trees. What he would have given to run through those trees, to feel the snow drift over his skin. What he would have given to take Ashlyn out there, right now, and make love to her on the cold, hard ground, where she’d be bathed in moonlight like a wood nymph. No violence. Just passion.

"Perhaps we can convince these Titans to release you from this curse," Lucien said, dragging him from his musings.

For the first time in hundreds of years, he felt a stirring of hope. Maybe, despite everything, the Titans would release him if he asked. They had once craved peace and harmony for the world. Surely they – You know better. Look at what they were making Aeron do.

Maddox’s hope fell away from him in little pieces, like leaves from a winter tree. Already the Titans had proven themselves cruder than the Greeks had ever been. "I do not think I want to risk it."

"Maybe there is an alternative to the gods," Reyes said.

If so, they would have found it by now, but he didn’t say that aloud. A few seconds later, the trio entered his bedroom, shoving the thick wooden door out of the way.

Dread heated Maddox’s blood as he climbed onto the bed. He lay down. The fresh cotton sheets were cold, scentless, and bore no trace of Ashlyn. Still, he had the memory.

Last time he’d lain here, he’d held her in his arms, comforted her. Breathed her in. Contemplated making love to her. Savored her taste in his mouth.

His dread increased as Reyes chained his wrists and Lucien his ankles. "When this is over," he said, "check on Ashlyn. If she is well, leave her in the room with the other women. If not, lock her in another room and I will care for her in the morning. But no more dungeons. No more cruelty. Feed her, but do not give her wine. Understand?"

The two men shared another of those tense looks they’d exchanged earlier and stepped away from the bed, out of spitting range.

"Reyes," Maddox said, a warning. "Lucien," he added, a curse. "What’s going on?"

"About the woman," Lucien began, refusing to face him. There was a poisoned pause.

"I’m trying to remain calm," he said, even as a black haze shuttered over his vision. "Tell me you have not done anything to her."

"We haven’t."

He released a breath, his eyesight returning to normal.

"We haven’t done anything to her," Lucien continued, "but we’re going to."

The promise hit Maddox’s ears then registered in his mind a moment later. He bucked against the chains. "Let me loose. Now!"

"She’s Bait, Maddox," Reyes said quietly.

"No. She isn’t." Feeling panicked, as if he were stuck in a nightmare he couldn’t awaken from, he told them of her ability and his suspicion that she’d been followed unknowingly. "She’s cursed, like we are. Cursed to hear ancient conversations."

Lucien shook his head. "You’re too enthralled with her to admit the truth. That she may have a strange ability only solidifies my belief that she is Bait, exactly like the voice you heard in your head today. How better to learn about us? How better to discover the best way to defeat us?"