The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(67)

Oh, she wasn't ugly. Far from it. She was small and delicate, with black hair and amazingly bright silver eyes. But she now held the spirit of Misery inside her, so laughter, giddiness and joy were not a part of her life.

Sabin had tried for hundreds of years to cheer her up. No matter what he did, what he said, she always looked on the verge of suicide. Truly, all the sadness in the world was swimming in those silver eyes and layered in her voice. He'd always wondered how she persevered without going mad.

He rubbed his jaw as his gaze sought Amun. "Did you learn anything?"

Amun leaned against the far wall, a dark slash in contrast to the stark white of the room. Dark skin, dark eyes, dark everything, Amun could divine secrets - deep, deep secrets - when in close proximity with someone.

Had to be a burden, knowing the ugliest secrets of those around him.

Maybe that was why Amun rarely spoke. Afraid he'd spill unthinkable truths. Afraid he'd cause widespread panic.

"Nothing to help our cause," Cameo answered for him in that death-warmed-over tone of hers. "Except for the women who've slept with Paris and Maddox and only know the size of their cocks, the townspeople have always remained at a distance from the warriors, so they don't know enough for Amun to divine a secret."

Okay, seriously. She made him want to plunge a knife in her heart, right here, right now, rather than wait for her to do it. Anything to stop the sadness.

Before he could respond, the door burst open a second time and Strider entered, claiming everyone's attention.

His light hair was in tangles around his face, his blue eyes bright. Dirt streaked his sharp cheekbones and blood was sprinkled on his chin. But his strides were smooth, unburdened, so Sabin knew the man had found something.

Sabin straightened abruptly. "Tell us."

Strider paused in the center of the room and grinned. "As we suspected, Hunters are already here."

Cameo shifted in a movement of total grace and elegance completely at odds with her suicidal expression. "Let's capture and question them and find out if they know more than we do."

"No need," Strider said. "I already detained one."

"And?" Sabin asked excitedly.

"Like that Hunter told you last month, they're here to capture the Lords on the hill. They've got someone on the inside."

"I'm delighted to hear this," Gideon said.

Strider ignored him. They all did.

"No mention of the box?" Kane asked. As he spoke, a lightbulb shorted out in the lamp beside him, spraying sparks in every direction.

"None."

The lamp tipped over, nailing Kane in the head.

Sabin shook his head. The man was a walking disaster. Literally. Whenever Kane stepped into a room, things went to hell pretty quickly. Sabin expected the ceiling to cave at any moment. And yeah, it had happened before.

Kane brushed the tiny flames from his hair and rubbed his temple, hazel eyes showing no emotion. Without a word, he moved away from the hazardous lamp and eased onto the floor as far away from everyone as he could get.

Sabin cast a glance out the French double doors that opened onto a comfortable balcony with a romantic view of the city. Not that he had room for romance in his life.

Women tended to run screaming from him - if he didn't run screaming first.

He didn't mean to, but he made them doubt themselves in every way imaginable. Their life choices, their appearance, their everything. They cried. Always. Sometimes they tried to kill themselves. And he just couldn't take it anymore. Couldn't take the guilt that came with his unstoppable actions. So now he stayed away. Far, far away.

Sabin tamped down a wave of regret. Night had fallen and he could see the twinkling city lights. The moon was full, bright and clear. A golden beacon in the black velvet sky. Cold air wisped inside, dancing the sheer white curtains against the wall.

A night for lovers.

Or death.

"Where are the Hunters now?" he asked.

"Meeting at a club, according to my source. I already checked it out, and it's about five minutes from here," Strider said.

Sabin had wanted to be at the cemetery, but now he wanted to be at the club. Unfortunately, he couldn't be in both places at once. In an echo of the choice that had faced him centuries ago, he again found himself torn between Hunters and his old friends.

He gave the room another inspection, as if the answer was hiding somewhere in the shadows. "I need one of you to go to the cemetery tonight. Fully armed. I did my best to draw the warriors there. You can decide what to do if you see them. The rest of us will visit the club."

"I'll take the cemetery," Kane said. He didn't sound excited. Rather, he sounded resigned. "The club might collapse if I go."

True.

A chunk of plaster chose that moment to dislodge from the wall and slam into Kane's skull. Good thing the man had a mane of thick tabby-cat hair to soften the blow. As it was, he winced.

Sabin sighed. "If all goes well, we might get the answers we've been waiting for and finally, once and for all, be able to destroy Pandora's box." Before the Hunters find it and suck our demons back inside, killing us. "Now let's move out."

Damn, damn, damn.

Time had gotten away from him. Maddox had become completely absorbed as he'd placed traps along the hill: pits to fall into, trip wires, nets. Should have done it long before today, but they hadn't wanted to hurt any of the deliverymen bearing supplies or the women who came looking for Paris.