The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(58)

If only...

When he opened his eyes, he was once again Maddox. Once again a man ruled by darkness, living in a world  where midnight always triumphed and evil laughed in the face of good.

He was still on his knees. Ashlyn was still in front of him. He could hear her panting rasps and realized he was panting himself. He stood, disconcerted to note his legs hadn't stopped shaking.

Neither had Ashlyn's. Her eyelids were closed, lashes in wet spikes. There was a blissful, satisfied aura surrounding her, but he couldn't dislodge the sudden thought that he'd been too rough, that he could have been gentler. Tried harder.

"Please look at me," he said.

Like butterfly wings, her lashes fluttered open. Those amber orbs gazed up at him, and she nibbled on her bottom lip, expression uncertain. "Yes?"

"Did I hurt you?" Worse, "Do you regret?"

"No and no." She smiled that radiant smile of hers, sunshine in the tenebrous recesses of night.

"How are you still a virgin?" he asked, dazed.

Slowly, her smile faded. Embarrassment clouded her eyes, darkening the brown to a churning black tempest. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Please."

She peered down at her feet, hiding the emotion, the storm. "I never should have told you to ask rather than demand. It's irresistible!"

He would have to remember that.

"Maybe I should have told you earlier, before we... But..."

His stomach pitched. Should he want to hear her confession, whatever it was? Yes. Did he? No. Not now. He turned the water off and crowded her against the tile. He couldn't predict the spirit's reaction to being told this lushly beautiful creature had conspired against him. "Ashlyn - "

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "Hear me out. Just promise not to hate me, okay, and try to understand that I can't help it." Pause. Shuddering breath. "Here goes. You're not the only one possessed by something you can't control. I hear voices. When I stand in a spot where a conversation has taken place, I can hear every word that was uttered, no matter how much time has passed." Her eyes landed anywhere but on him as she spoke.

Maddox listened, shocked to the core. She hadn't admitted to Hunters or gods or a vendetta against him, but to voices. He knew, deep down, her words were not a lie. They were too complicated and too easily disproved; true Bait would have opted for something less refutable. More than that, what she described made sense, fitting several pieces of last night's puzzle together.

Which meant she had tried to protect him earlier. Not for any ulterior motives, but because she had wanted to. Amazement flowed through him. Amazement and relief and joy.

Now he understood why she hadn't been too brokenhearted when he'd admitting to killing those men. Most likely, she hadn't even known them. As he'd suspected, they could very well have hoped to capture her and use her ability to their advantage.

His fingers itched for a knife; he wanted to kill them all over again. Calm down. They still could have worked for her Institute, and she simply hadn't realized it. No, that couldn't be right. They would have made themselves known to her, for they'd been close enough to hear and see her.

"Why did you fear I would hate you?" he asked.

"I hear secrets," she whispered. "It's hard to make friends, you know? The people who know what I can do want nothing to do with me and the people who don't know can't figure out how to deal with me."

The loneliness in her tone affected him deeply. He understood. But even he didn't like the thought of her knowing - hearing - the violent things he'd done over the years. "What secrets of mine have you heard?" He tried to keep his voice light, but didn't quite manage it.

"None. I swear." She gazed up at him with wide eyes. "When I'm around you, the world is silent."

She'd said that before. He recalled the expression on her face when he'd first approached her. Total bliss. She'd been savoring the silence, just as she'd claimed. The knowledge humbled and baffled him, yet underneath both emotions was an unshakable pride. He had helped her. He, who was unable to fight free of his own torment, had somehow released another from hers.

"You said you hear secrets. What have you heard about us?"

"I've already told you. Most townspeople consider you angels. Some consider you demons. But all of them are in awe of you."

"No plans to attack?"

"Not that I heard."

"Good." He splayed his hands around her waist, lifted and set her out of the tub. He climbed out beside her and palmed a towel from the cabinet. After wrapping it around her shoulders so that the material draped and warmed her, he grabbed one for himself.

"Good? That's all you have to say to me?" she asked.

"Yes."

Surprise caused her mouth to fall open. "Well, now that I've told you, I'd like to call my boss and let him know I'm okay."

Maddox shook his head. "I'm afraid that is not an option. No one can know you're here. For your safety, and for ours."

"But - "

"It is not up for discussion. The answer is now and always no."

Her mouth worked open again, as if she meant to argue. But she merely said, "Fine."

From her tone, he knew it wasn't. She probably planned to hunt up a phone the moment he turned his back. Women. For the first time, he understood what Paris meant when he uttered the word like a curse. He sighed. "I swear to you, Ashlyn, this is the best course of action for all involved."