Lords of the Underworld Bundle (17 page)

“Let him go, Maddox,” Lucien said, the calm eye of the storm.

He pushed the weapon deeper, his gaze never leaving Aeron's. Fire sizzled and crackled between them. “Do not talk about her like that.”

“I'll talk however I please.”

He scowled.
I like this man. I admire him. He's killed for me, and I for him.
Yet he knew, deep down, that if Ashlyn were mentioned in such a derogatory manner again, he would snap. The speaker didn't matter. Nothing mattered except
her.
He hated that fact. He didn't understand it, but was helpless against it.

“For whatever reason,” Lucien said, “the girl is a trigger. Tell him you won't talk about her again, Aeron.”

“Why should I?” was the grumbled reply. “Last time I checked, I had a right to voice my opinions.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out. That didn't help. Maddox could feel himself gearing for another attack.
Damn it! I have to get myself under control.
This was utterly ridiculous and wholly embarrassing. He'd never had less influence over his own actions.

“Aeron, you have to be tired of cleaning blood off the floors,” Lucien said. “Think how much there will be if Hunters are even now trying to invade our home and we do not stop them from getting inside. Tell him.”

Aeron hesitated only a moment before removing the knife from Maddox's neck. “Fine,” he spat. “No talk of the girl. Happy now?”

Yes. Maddox relaxed instantly and eased to his feet. He even held out his empty hand to help Aeron stand, but Aeron brushed him aside and stood on his own. Paris had once called Maddox “The Mood Swing”; he had been joking at the time, but Maddox was starting to believe the truth of his words.

“I'm not going to say it, but you know what I'm thinking, right?” Aeron asked dryly.

Yes. He knew. He was as bad as Paris—if not worse.

“Children,” Lucien muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Mommy,” Aeron replied, but there was no heat in his tone.

Maddox closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating, trying to make himself believe.
Ashlyn is just a woman. She means nothing but temporary satisfaction.
The shadows and pain he'd glimpsed in her eyes meant nothing. They would not soften him, much less bewitch him. Not anymore. He had to start thinking of her as he did the others.

Any more of this absurd fighting, and he would have to dig his dignity out of the garbage.

Hell, maybe the gods had finally decided to chastise him and had sent Ashlyn to drive him crazy, to cause him pain and suffering. To punish him. Maybe he was no longer to yearn for eternal death at night. Maybe he was to yearn for eternal death all day long.

“Good?” Lucien asked.

Not even close. He might be calm now, but he was worse off than ever. Still, he nodded and stalked down the hallway without another word, up the stairs and into his wing of the fortress. Better to get this over with.

When Lucien and Aeron once again flanked him, Aeron said, “My blade.”

“It's nice,” he replied, purposely misunderstanding. He did not return it.

Aeron snorted. “I didn't realize you were hard up for a weapon.”

“If you want to keep yours, take better care.”

“The same could be said of your head.”

Maddox offered no response. The closer he came to his bedroom, the more he could smell Ashlyn's honey scent. A scent that was all her own. Not from soap or perfume, but from
her.
His body hardened painfully, his cock filling with heat and need. He'd been waiting for a sip of that honey forever, it seemed.
She's just like other women, remember? Nothing special,
he reminded himself.

He flicked a glance at his companions. They appeared oblivious to the sweet fragrance in the air. Good. He wanted Ashlyn, all of her, to himself.
Nothing special, damn you.

When they reached the threshold, each of them paused. Aeron tensed and readied his remaining blade. A hard mask covered his face, as if he were preparing himself to do whatever was necessary. Lucien, too, produced a weapon—a .45, cocked and ready.

“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. Floors—no footprints. Window—still closed. Platter of food—untouched. 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 out—don't touch, don't touch—helpless 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 rested—and 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
moved—he'd seen his downfall in her pretty eyes the moment their gazes met—but 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 in—yet. Now we have a more pressing concern to discuss. What I tried to tell you earlier is that the gods—they 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.