The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(27)

Kill him.

"No!" he shouted, only then realizing he hadn't tamed the demon at all. Not even a little. He stilled, panting for air, not knowing what else to do. He couldn't go to Ashlyn like this, hungry for blood and even more on edge than he'd been.

"Oh, yes." Cut and bruised, Aeron snarled low in his throat and slammed his fist into Maddox's right eye. Pain exploded in his head as the man's rings nicked a vein. His vision was momentarily blackened. Something warm and wet gushed down the slope of his face and finally, finally, the sadistic voice quieted.

Perhaps he needed the spirit beaten into submission. Happy to oblige, he splayed his arms wide, welcoming the next blow.

Aeron did not disappoint. The warrior kicked him in the stomach and Maddox sailed backward. The moment he hit the ground, Aeron was on top of him, strangling him, knees pinning his shoulders. Satisfaction blanketed the man's face, but there were demons in his eyes, ugly demons, tormenting demons, so much more menacing than the tattoo on his neck.

"Want more?" Aeron snarled.

"More."

Punch. Maddox's head flew to the left. Punch. His head flew to the right. Punch. The cartilage in his nose cracked.

Hit me. Harden Harder! With every blow, the spirit slunk deeper and deeper. Wrath against Violence, he mused, and Violence was cowed. The thought of vanquishing Violence was almost a sexual high. He smiled, thinking this must be how Reyes felt. Happy in pain, desperate for more.

His teeth sliced into his tongue as another blow was delivered. His tongue swelled. Now I won't be able to kiss Ashlyn, he thought.

You don't need to kiss her to f*ck her, the demon lashed out, rearing its ugly head just long enough to send a lance of fury through him.

Enough! He wanted to kiss Ashlyn. Wanted her taste in his mouth as she writhed against him. And he would have it. That's all he had thought about while sucking back flames during the endless night.

Another punch.

"Aeron! What are you doing?" Maddox heard Lucien demand from across the hall.

"Giving Maddox what he needs." Punch.

"Stop."

"No." The next blow sank deeper and harder into his temple, rattling his brain.

"Don't stop," Maddox said as Aeron backhanded him. A little more and the spirit might stay hidden for the rest of the day.

"Stop," Lucien repeated. "Now. Or tonight I'll take you into hell with Maddox."

The punches instantly ceased. It was a threat Lucien could easily uphold.

Aeron was panting; Maddox was, too. He almost reached out, grabbed Aeron's wrist and forced the man to start again. He wanted, needed, more. He would take no chances. If he had to be beaten until he was too weak to do anything but crawl, he would let himself be beaten.

He would not hurt Ashlyn.

Not yet, at least.

Reluctantly Aeron pushed to his feet and offered Maddox a helping hand. He accepted with the same reluctance and was quickly hefted to a stand. Together, he and Aeron faced Lucien.

There was no emotion in Lucien's eyes as he perused them. Maddox worked a hand over his battered face, finding cuts that would have needed stitching were he human.

"Does someone want to tell me what was going on?"

"We were trying a new sparring technique," Maddox said through swollen lips. For once the spirit remained quiet. He almost felt normal. The realization was so wonderfully stunning, he grinned.

"That's right. New sparring technique." Aeron slung an arm over his shoulder. One of his eyes was sealed shut and his lower lip was shredded.

Within the hour, Maddox knew, both of them would be totally mended. Immortality had its advantages.

Would Violence return when his body healed?

Lucien opened his mouth to respond, but Maddox held up one bruised palm. "I will hear no complaints from you. You left Ashlyn in the dungeon. You should thank the gods I'm not going for your throat."

"We did what was needed to make her more acquiescent," Lucien said, and there was not an apology in his tone.

Maddox stiffened, anger washing through him. A remarkably ordinary anger, though. One that didn't compel him to do terrible deeds. Miraculous. "I asked you for two things. Only two: You failed on both counts."

"You asked that she remain alive and you asked that she remain untouched. She is both of those things," Lucien pointed out.

True, but she'd been scared and cold, and for some reason that knowledge cut him deeper than Aeron's fists. She was just so small, so delicate. "I could not see to her needs. You should have." He had always hated that he lost all ties to reality when midnight struck. He hated that he didn't know what happened here during those twilight hours, hated that he could not protect himself or those close to him.

For all he knew, the fortress could be attacked by Hunters, burned to the ground, everyone inside slaughtered. Ashlyn could betray him, leading those Hunters inside. But Ashlyn could also be beaten. Ashlyn could be ravaged or killed, and he would not know.

"Listen, right now your woman doesn't matter," Lucien said. "Much has happened since your latest death. The - "

A growl vibrated in his throat, his head, his ears, drowning out the warrior's voice. Doesn't matter? "If she becomes sick..." The edges of his anger morphed into razor-sharp points, prodding at the spirit. Not subdued completely after all, he realized with an inward curse, even as his body tightened, gearing for war.