The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(71)
Author: Gena Showalter

"I wanted you to stay as removed as possible. I do care about you, Ashlyn. We knew there were two groups of demons. We’ve been fighting one for years and were always searching for the other. Then one of our female operatives discovered Promiscuity. We brought you to Budapest to listen and learn everything you could about these new enemies. You were never supposed to get close to them."

Her life’s work had turned out to be something malicious and sick. I was such a fool. "You came to kill these men, but they treat the people of Budapest only with kindness. They donate money as if it’s water and keep criminal activity at a minimum. They keep to themselves and hardly venture out. You bombed a nightclub."

McIntosh approached her, his expression determined. "We didn’t come to kill them. We can’t. Not yet. Years ago, it was discovered that to kill a Lord was to release its demon upon the world – a demon who’s nothing more than a twisted vessel of destruction, warped from its captivity. No, we’re here to capture the warriors. When we find Pandora’s box, we can lock away the demons and dispose of the men who house them. You found that out for us, remember?" He reached her and grabbed her shoulders. "Do you know where it is? Did they tell you?"

"No."

"You had to have heard something. Think, Ashlyn."

"I told you. I don’t know where it is."

"Don’t you want to live in a world free from evil? Free from lies and misery and violence? You hear more of each in a day than most people do in a lifetime." He studied her for a long while, frowning. "I’ve nurtured your talent for years. I gave you a place to stay, food to eat and a life as peaceful as possible. All I asked in return was that you used your gift to find the creatures living among us."

"And I’ve always done so. But I haven’t heard anything new about the box," she insisted, sickened.

His frown deepened. "You must have. You weren’t a prisoner like these women. You were freely roaming the halls." As he spoke, his eyes widened, as if his own words had offered a startling revelation. He released her and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a syringe filled with clear liquid. "Are you working for the monsters now, Ashlyn? Is that what’s going on? Were you working with them all along?" The betrayal in his voice would have been laughable if she hadn’t been so frightened.

She backed up a step, then another. Her back hit a brick wall and she tried to jump away. Strong arms banded around her, holding her in place. Not a brick wall, after all. A man. A hunter. She struggled to free herself.

"Where’s the box, Ashlyn?" the doctor demanded. "That’s all I want. Tell me where it is and I’ll let you go."

Calm down. Stall him. Distract him. When she didn’t appear with the towels, Maddox would come looking for her. "You’re a hunter, but you don’t have a tattoo on your wrist." Hadn’t Maddox said something about tattoos? "Why is that?"

He held up his arm and pushed the sleeve of his shirt down. An intricate black, sideways figure-eight stared at her. "I simply made sure you never noticed it. My father took me to get it on my eighteenth birthday when I made my vow to continue the family legacy."

How had she never known? She felt so stupid. The woman who had thought herself impossible to deceive had been fooled for years. Shame and guilt joined ranks with her betrayal and fear.

Just keep him talking. "Why the symbol of infinity?" she asked, barely managing to find her voice.

"Our purpose is an eternity without evil. What better symbol?"

"But the men here, they aren’t evil. They really aren’t. They’ve taken care of me. They’ve helped me. If you’d just get to know them, you’d – "

Hate fell over his face like a curtain. "Get to know a demon?" He cracked his jaw. Stepped closer. "Those creatures of the underworld need to be destroyed, Ashlyn. They toppled Athens. The people they killed, the pain they caused…"

"But hurting them makes you as evil as you claim they are. Have you not already killed people to get to them?"

Without warning his arm whipped out, slamming the syringe into her neck. A sharp pain, a warm rush. She tried to jerk away. Too late. She was suddenly so light-headed she could hardly move. A strange lethargy worked its way through her body, weaving weakness and shadows in her blood, her dizzy mind.

"Sleep," McIntosh said.

And she did.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Maddox could not believe what he was seeing. A hallucination? A nightmare? He had left the injured warriors to check Torin’s room for any sign of the man’s return. To his alarm, he had found blood smeared throughout the hallways. Now he stood in Torin’s doorway, and he saw that Torin had indeed returned. He lay on the floor in a puddle of thick, dark blood. So dark it appeared black. Even his silver hair was tinted with that lethal red-black liquid.

A deep gash slashed his neck.

Someone had either tried to sever the head from his body and failed or had cut him to slow him down – and succeeded. Torin’s eyes were closed but his chest rose every few seconds. He was still alive. But for how long?

Bile rose in Maddox’s throat – bile and rage and determination. Had Torin crawled home from the cemetery after this happened? Or had someone sneaked inside the fortress, attacking him from behind in the hall? Had Kane done it? Or a Hunter? Maddox scanned the room, dread building. No sign of Hunters, nor of Kane.

He shouted for his friends as he considered his options. Torin was like a brother to him; he couldn’t leave him like this to suffer. But he couldn’t touch him, either. Though Maddox himself would not become sick, he would undoubtedly spread the disease to Ashlyn.

Ashlyn. Had the culprit gotten to her, too? No. No! Help Torin and find her!

Again, he called for the warriors.

Skin to skin he could not risk with Torin. He would have to wear gloves. Urgency spilling through him, Maddox sprinted to the closet and withdrew one of the many pairs of black gloves Torin had stored there. He hastily pulled them from their sealed package and slid them onto his hands before draping a black shirt around his neck, protecting the skin there.

He bent down and scooped the injured man into his arms. He carried him to the bed and wrapped a T-shirt around his bleeding neck, applying pressure to stop the flow. It was strange to be this close to him after centuries of distance.

Slowly Torin’s lashes cracked open, and Maddox found himself staring into pain-drenched green eyes. Already Violence was preparing for battle, sharpening its claws, demanding action.

"Hunters," Torin gurgled. The word was barely audible. "On hill. Coming here. Fight. Want box. Touched me. Took Kane." He passed out after that, arm falling limply to the floor.