"Look before you attack," Maddox said through clenched teeth.
They nodded, neither sparing him a glance.
"On three. One." His ears twitched as he listened. No sound emerged from inside. Not the splash of bathwater or the gentle rattle of dishes on the tray. Had Ashlyn really escaped? If she had
"Two." His stomach knotted in anger and fear, and the scabs there burned. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife. He might just leave the fortress, might search the ends of the earth for her.
Nothing special indeed.
"Three." He twisted the lock and pushed open the door. Hinges creaked. All three men stormed inside, silent, prepared for anything. Maddox scanned the room, taking in every detail. Floorsno footprints. Windowstill closed. Platter of fooduntouched. Some of his clothes had been tossed out of the closet and were now strewn around the floor.
Where was she?
Aeron and Lucien fanned out as he inched along the closet wall, alert, watchful. He jumped into the small space, blade raised. Found nothing.
The covers shifted on the bed and a soft, breathy moan drifted through the air.
"Weapons down," Maddox commanded in a fierce whisper, blood sizzling from the sound of that feminine sigh.
Several seconds ticked by before either man obeyed. Only then did Maddox approach the bed, slowly sweating For some reason, he was trembling like a fragile human. He suspected the image he was about to see would undo him.
He was right.
He found a sleeping beauty. Ashlyn. Angel. Destruction.
Her amber hair was splayed over his snow-white pillow. Her lashes, two shades darker than her hair, cast spiky shadows over her dirt-smudged cheeks. She hadn't bathed, hadn't eaten. She must have tumbled to sleep soon after he'd left.
"Pretty," Aeron said, reluctant admiration in his tone.
Exquisite, Maddox silently corrected. Mine. Her lips were red and puffy, deliciously swollen. Had she chewed them from worry? He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, found himself reaching outdon't touch, don't touchhelpless to prevent the action. But he fisted his hands just before contact. His body was once again rock hard, need simmering inside of him. A dark need, frightening in its intensity and still so much more powerful than Violence had ever been.
How did she elicit such a response from him simply by breathing?
Touch her. Who wanted it? Him? The demon? Both?
Didn't matter. Just one caress, then he'd leave. He'd shower and return when she was restedand he'd have himself under firm control by then. Surely he would.
Finally, opening his hand, his fingertips brushed the side of her cheek. A whisper-soft caress. Her skin was silky smooth, electrical. He tingled on contact, his blood instantly heating another degree.
Her eyelids popped open, as if she, too, had felt the jolt.
She jerked upright, hair cascading down her shoulders and back. Her sleep-rimmed eyes searched, locked with his, widened. "Maddox." She scrambled backward until she was smashed against the metal headboard. Chains rattled from the sides of the bed, the chains that bound him every night. "Maddox," she repeated, scared, awed happy?
He, Lucien and Aeron stepped backward in unison. He knew why he movedhe'd seen his downfall in her pretty eyes the moment their gazes metbut he didn't know why the others had reacted that way.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she gasped out. "And what happened to your face? You're bleeding." He heard concern and it shook him deeply. Would she always affect him so?
She glanced at the others and gave a choked whimper. "It wasn't enough for you to kill him last night, you had to beat him up today, too? Get out, you you murderers! Get out right now!"
She leapt from the bed and stood in front of Maddox, wobbling slightly as she held out her arms to ward them off. Protecting him? Again? Eyes wide, he met the equally astonished gazes of the others.
Her actions were those of an innocent or someone pretending to be innocent. Even so, Maddox found that he wanted to touch her again. In comfort? He shook his head. Couldn't be. Had to be pleasure. That made sense. He was a man; she was a woman. He desired.
But would that desire grow darker, as he feared?
He gripped her arm and pulled her behind him. He shared a confused look with Lucien, then turned to face her. Before he could utter a single word, she rushed out, "Are you going to take me into the city now? Please."
And never see her again? "Eat," he commanded, harsher than he'd intended. "Bathe. I will return soon." To his friends, he barked, "Let's go." He stalked into the hall.
They lingered only a moment before following. After closing and locking the door, Maddox leaned his forehead against the cold stone wall beside it, measuring every molecule of air he drew in and forced out of his lungs as he tried to soothe his riotous heartbeat. This has to stop,
"You've brought trouble into our midst," Aeron said, remaining at his side. "And was she actually trying to protect you from us?"
"Surely not." But that was the second time she'd done so, and he was more confused now than before.
He straightened and scrubbed a hand down his face.
"Let me go, Maddox," Ashlyn called through the door. More than it had yesterday, her voice appealed to him. Soft, lilting. Erotic. "I was wrong to come here. I was. If it will help, I'll promise not to tell anybody."
"I know I've brought trouble," he told Aeron.
His friend arched a brow in that insolent expression Maddox was coming to loathe. "No apology?"
That was the worst of it; he still wasn't sorry.
"Forget the woman for now," Lucien said, waving a hand through the air. He squared his shoulders. "You've seen her. She is well. She doesn't appear to have let Hunters inyet. Now we have a more pressing concern to discuss. What I tried to tell you earlier is that the godsthey are not who you think they are."
"Maddox, we need to talk to you," a harsh voice called, cutting off whatever response he might have made.
Lucien threw up his arms in exasperation and Maddox pivoted. Reyes approached, Paris and Torin at his sides. Two were scowling, the other grinning like the madman he was.
"Your woman has to go," Reyes growled. "I smelled her all night long, and I can't stand another second of that thunderstorm scent."
Thunderstorm? Ashlyn smelled like honey. Still, his jaw clenched at the thought of another man being so aware of her. "She stays," he said curtly.
"Who is she, why is she still here and when can I see her naked?" Paris asked with an eyebrow wiggle.
"Someone should kill her," Reyes countered.
"No one touches her!"
Aeron closed his eyes and shook his head. "Here we go again."
"Unlike Reyes, I don't mind her presence," Paris said, rubbing his hands together. "I only mind your unwillingness to share. I'd like to"
Maddox shoved Paris before the man could finish the sentence. "Do not speak another word. I know what you would like to do to her, and I will die first."
Now Paris frowned, pale skin dusting with angry color. "Back off, asshole. I haven't had a woman today, so I'm in no mood for this kind of bullshit."
Torin remained in the corner, watching, grin spreading. "Anyone else find this highly amusing? It's even better than listening to the brokers when stocks plummet."
Maddox struggled to rein in his temper and shove Ashlyn to the back of his mind. Where she belonged. As a female, as a human, as possible Bait, she was the last person who should rouse this sort of protective reaction in him.
Should, should, should. Argh! End this. Finally. Soon. Now.
"Enough!" Lucien shouted.
Everyone quieted and stared at Lucien in surprise. He was not usually a shouter.
"Were there Hunters in town?" he asked Paris and Reyes.
Reyes shook his head. "We didn't find any."
"Good. That's good. Perhaps Maddox did indeed kill them all." Lucien nodded in satisfaction. "But Maddox doesn't know about the gods yet. We need to tell him. What's more, Aeron and I did something last night."
Instantly Aeron's body went rigid. "We said we wouldn't tell them."
"I know." Lucien sighed, clearly at the end of his patience. "I changed my mind."
"You cannot simply change your mind!" Aeron roared, leaping in front of Lucien.
"I can and I did," was the reply. Not exactly calm, but close, only edged with steel.
"What's going on?" Maddox stepped between them and pushed them apart. For once, he was not the one throwing accusations and fists. "I'm ready to listen. You mentioned the gods. I know Aeron was summoned. I was too distracted to ask for details before. What did they want from him?"
"Later," Torin said to Maddox, but he didn't take his eyes off Lucien. "What'd you do, Death?"
"Spill," Reyes commanded.
Lucien's attention never wavered from Aeron. "After their reaction to Ashlyn, we need to make sure they don't accidentally stumble upon our secret. What do you think will happen if they do?"
For a long while, Aeron did not reply. Tension filled the air, grave, sinister. Finally, Aeron nodded. "Fine. Show them. But get ready to war, my friend, because they aren't going to be happy."
"Someone had better explain," Reyes demanded, looking between them.
"An explanation will not be good enough. I need to show you." Lucien started down the hall. "This way."
Prophetic words, Maddox thought. He cast a questioning glance at Torin, who had uttered something similar only last night. Know what's going on? he mouthed.
No, was the silent reply.
Nothing good, that much he could guess. Lucien had never acted this mysterious. Confused, intrigued, concerned, Maddox glanced at Ashlyn's door before following his friends.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ashlyn fell back onto the bed, struggling to control her breathing. Oh God. He'd come back. He hadn't been a dream, hallucination or mirage. Maddox was alive. She'd really been locked inside a dungeon; he'd really risen from the dead. And he'd really stopped the voices.
When he'd left her in this oddly bare bedroom, she'd searched for a phone, found nothing, then searched for a way out. Again, nothing. Fatigue had quickly settled on her shoulders, nearly crushing her. She'd been unable to fight it, the silence inexorably relaxing, like a beloved drug she'd finally been able to indulge in. So she'd lain down, not caring about the consequences. She'd entertained the notion that maybe, just maybe, all of this was a delusion and when she opened her eyes, she'd find herself in her own home, her own bed.
Not so. Oh, not so.
A moment ago, a shock of thrumming power had slammed through her, dragging her kicking and screaming from the most peaceful sleep of her entire life, a sleep wrapped in that blissful silence. And then Maddox had been standing over her, looking down at her with those fathomless purple eyes.
His face had been, was, a mass of bruises and cuts. Black and blue and bloodied, his left eye swollen, his lip split from top to bottom. At the memory, nausea churned in her stomach. Had those monsters tried to kill him again?
Again. Ha! She laughed humorlessly. They had killed him. And two of his killers had stood at his side. He'd seemed on affable terms with them, conversing with them as if he had no reason to hate them. How could they still be friends?
She lumbered from the bed. Her body creaked and ached with every movement, as if she were a doddering ninety rather than a spry twenty-four. She frowned. Too much stress, with no real end in sight.
The men must have wandered off, because she no longer heard them beyond the threshold. Good. She didn't want to deal with them right now. Or ever. Take care of business, then find a way out of here.
She trekked to the bathroom, awed by its surprising beauty, considering the sparseness of the bedroom and the starkness of the dungeon. Here she found white-tiled walls and a matching marble floor, a built-in chrome and black vanity overflowing with towels, a porcelain sink, a gleaming claw-foot tub with a raised nozzlein case a giant decided to shower? she wondered, wide-eyedand a nearly transparent curtain.
For some reason, everything was bolted down.
A tiered light hung from the ceiling, its brass arms stretching in different directions. There were no other decorations, though. No pictures or amenities. Had Maddox removed them, afraid she'd try to steal them?
Ashlyn snorted. The Institute paid her very well to listen for and learn about all things paranormal; money was not a problem. Besides, whatever she wanted, McIntosh willingly gave her. And if she didn't want to ask him, she ordered from the Internet and had it delivered to her doorstep.
She blushed, thinking of some of the things she'd recently ordered. Romance novels, which had invariably led to the purchase of a harem girl costume, a black leather bra and panty set, and after reading one particular book about an undercover agent and former female thief, silk scarves and duct tape. Not that she'd ever used any of them.
With a sigh, she dipped a towel into the now-cold bathwater. Leaving her clothes on, she washed herself as best she could. No way would she strip. Any of the men could return at any moment.
Yeah, but you'd like it if Maddox returned.
No, she assured herself, flustered by the thought. She wouldn't. He scared her.
He brings precious silence.
Not anymore. He wasn't here, yet the voices hadn't returned. Her head was clear, her own thoughts all she heard. I'm cured.
No, you're not. You heard voices last night, in the dungeon,
"Now I'm talking to myself," she said, throwing her hands in the air. "What's next?"
She studied her reflection in the mirror. Droplets of water dripped from her forehead to her nose, from nose to chin. Her cheeks were bright with rosy color and her dark eyes gleamed. Odd. She'd never been more aware of her own mortality, but she'd also never looked more alive.
When her stomach rumbled, she recalled the tray of food Maddox had left on the floor. Her feet carried her to it without being ordered, kicking past the clothing she'd scattered when she'd searched the closet for a hidden phone. Black T-shirts, black pants, black briefs.