The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(52)

"But - "

No buts. Midnight. Unarmed.

Maddox blinked. That did not make sense. Why demand the men arrive unarmed? A god could crush them no matter how many weapons were strapped to their bodies.

Will you tell them?

His eyes narrowed. Either this was not a god or the being meant to lead them into an ambush. He already thought the Titans cruel, so he would not doubt that they were capable of such an act. But either way, he was damned. If this was a god, Maddox would be punished, for he could not bring himself to ask his friends to approach a potentially dangerous situation weaponless. And if this wasn't a god, that meant someone else - something else - had the power to infiltrate his thoughts.

At his side, Ashlyn smacked her lips and rolled to her back. One hand was draped over her brow and the other was curled on her stomach. Close to waking up, he realized, but fighting it.

Will you tell them? the voice demanded again, too eager now, too uncertain.

In that moment, Maddox knew. This wasn't a god. Couldn't be. An all-powerful being could simply whisk the Lords to the cemetery. An all-powerful being wouldn't betray a single shred of doubt. He ground his teeth together.

Do not make me ask again.

"Of course I will tell them," he said, and it wasn't a lie. He would tell them - just not what the being wanted him to tell.

Until tonight, then, the voice said, practically humming with satisfaction.

Until we learn the truth. Of course, Maddox did not voice the thought aloud. When there was no response, no reaction, he grinned slowly. The being could push its words into his mind, but could not hear his thoughts. Good. Very, very good.

The current of power suddenly vanished from the air.

Probabilities spun in Maddox's mind. Perhaps the being could hear dialogue from a distance. Perhaps, like Maddox and the others, the speaker was an immortal with special abilities.

An immortal Hunter?

Careful not to disturb Ashlyn, Maddox crept from the bed and made his way through the stronghold until he found Lucien. The warrior sat on the couch in the entertainment room, alone, silent, a glass of scotch in his hand.

Maddox told his friend what had happened and Lucien paled, even his scars blanching. "Hunters. Titans. Women. Now unnamed beings with unidentified powers? When does it end?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Every minute that ticks by, it seems something new arises." And to think, only yesterday Maddox had complained about the monotony of life.

"We have several hours, at least, to decide what to do about this. I need to think before we tell the others. Too much is happening at once, too many changes "

Maddox nodded. "You know where to find me when you need me." He returned to his room, glad for the reprieve. He wasn't ready to leave Ashlyn.

She lay exactly as he'd left her, a vision in his barren chamber. He climbed in beside her, accidentally jostling the mattress.

"Maddox," she murmured.

The single word was sleep-rich, a rumbling moan that fired his blood as surely as a caress from her delicate fingers would. With his renewed desire, Violence once again made itself known, its mood dark and hungry. Needing... something. Blood? Pain? Screams? He did not know, couldn't tell. I will control myself. I will not harm this woman.

Ashlyn rubbed her cheek against his side and purred like a contented kitten. "Maddox?"

Violence purred in response.

He gripped the sheets, the cool material shredding under his ministrations. What was Violence trying to force him to do? Its desires were hazy. Sweat beaded over Maddox's skin. His jaw clenched so tightly he felt the tendons in his neck strain.

"Maddox?" Ashlyn repeated. This time, she sounded concerned. She eased up, those glorious honey tresses cascading down her shoulders. Rays of sunlight streamed in from the window and bathed her in a bright amber halo. Her eyes swept over him. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't answer, couldn't speak past the knot in his throat.

Concern visibly intensifying, she leaned over and reached under his shirt, running her palms over his bare chest. The touch was exhilarating, consuming. Always there was that energy between them. He'd never felt anything like it.

But the spirit liked it too, he realized. It roared; not with fury but with arousal. More... The hazy needs of before built again, finally making themselves known. Pleasure and passion. Ecstasy and exquisite longing.

"How are you feeling?" Maddox asked, the lump receding. Amazing, to crave something, someone, without feeling a deeper urge to hurt.

"Better."

"I am glad." He remained in place for a long while, letting Ashlyn pet his chest and reveling in the sensations. Soft, sweet, an erotic dream he never wanted to end. He vibrated, or maybe the spirit did. Dangerous. He'd strip her and take her in a matter of minutes if he didn't stop her.

"Your face looks better," she said. "Not as battered."

"I heal quickly. Come." He rolled from the bed and held out one hand.

Her tawny gaze traveled from his face to his hand, then back to his face, searching for some sort of answer. "You change moods faster than anyone I've ever met," she grumbled, but she tentatively reached out, as if she couldn't stop herself. Their fingers intertwined.

Another sizzle.

She obviously felt it, as well, gasping at first contact.

Shaking with the need to claim her, he tugged her to her feet. She swayed and tightened her grip on him. "Where are we going?"