The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(70)

"What's your name?"

"Torin," he said, seeming surprised that she cared.

"You don't plan to kill me, do you, Torin?"

He snorted. "Hardly. If I did, Maddox would cut out my heart and fry it for breakfast."

"Okay, that was a little more information than I needed," she said, yet she couldn't help but experience a silly, schoolgirl rush of happiness. Did Maddox care about her, then? Even a little? If so, where was he? Why hadn't he come for her?

Torin led her through the hallways, quiet, even his footfalls muffled. A few times he stopped and listened, then motioned for her to hide in the shadows. "Keep it down," he told her when she opened her mouth to ask a question.

"Anytime you're ready to talk, I'm ready to hear about what's going on," she whispered.

He ignored her. "We're almost there."

"Where?" The more she walked, the more she thought she heard... what was that?

A second later, she knew.

Her stomach cramped, the noise becoming all too clear. Screaming. Agonized, pain-filled screaming. She'd heard that torturous suffering only once before and it had been once too often.

"Maddox," she gasped out. Not again!

She was so close now, she could make out the deep timbre of his voice, his and the second voice that sometimes peeked through it, both broken and cracked. She wanted to vomit. Urgency pulsed through her. She almost raced in front of her guide, but held her ground, afraid he'd reach out to stop her. "Hurry, Torin. Please hurry. I have to help him. We have to stop them."

"In here," he said, opening a door and stepping out of the way. She raced into the room, already searching for Maddox. She saw an antique chest, a bearskin rug, a canopied bed, but no Maddox. Confused, concern intensifying, she spun around.

"Where is he?" She had to get to him. Didn't matter what he'd done to her or how he felt about her.

He shouldn't have to suffer like that.

"Don't worry about Maddox. You know he'll be fine. Worry about yourself. They were going to take you into the city, and I couldn't let them. Maddox would have murdered us all in our beds. So, for the sake of my life if not yours, be quiet. They don't have a lot of time to search for you. Behave and you might survive." He shut the door in her face with a soft snick.

A click echoed as the lock engaged.

Dread, fear and uncertainty fought for dominance inside of her. She didn't know if Torin had been telling the truth and she didn't care. She had to get to Maddox. Another of his shouts pierced the air and seemed to cut through plaster and rock, wrapping around her.

Tears stung her eyes. She rushed to the door, trying to turn the knob with a shaky hand. It didn't budge. Damn it! She'd be quiet, but she was not staying in this room.

Ashlyn wheeled around and again surveyed the area, trying to see it through a thief's eyes. Dust covered everything, as if the room had been forgotten for years. No knick-knacks, either. Nothing she could use to smash the lock.

She moved to the window and swept the drapes aside, instantly gaining a view of the mountain, white and majestic. A balcony led - she looked, gasped. Down, down, down. Only if you fall. Thankfully the double glass windows opened easily. Ignoring the sudden blast of frigid air, she peeked right, then left. A few feet over was another balcony.

Maddox bellowed, loud and long.

Palms sweating, she raced to the bed, an idea forming in her mind. A dangerous idea. A stupid idea. "The only idea," she muttered, sweeping up the covers and sheets with a flick of her wrist.

Dust filled her nose and mouth and she coughed but didn't slow. She tied one end of the sheet to one end of the comforter. "It's been done in movies. You'll be okay." Maybe. Actors had nets - and stunt doubles. She had neither.

Another bellow.

Her stomach churned as she returned to the windows. The oversized T-shirt and sweatpants she wore did little to protect her against the elements, but she stepped onto the balcony without any hesitation and hissed in a breath. The stone was ice-cold against her bare feet and the wind was bitter.

Fingers shaking, breath misting, she tied an end of the makeshift rope to the balcony railing. Double knotted. Triple knotted. Gave a jerk.

It held.

But would it hold her weight? After puking her guts out earlier, she was probably a few pounds lighter, so that was one point in her favor.

Shaking more violently now, she climbed over the metal bars. Rust left a dirty trail on her clothing. She kept her gaze level. "You have nothing to worry about. There's not a ten-million-foot drop."

She descended the blanket. A creak. A rattle. Her heart almost stopped. "Maddox needs you. He might even care about you. Or he might think you're a liar and an evil killer, might not even like you and might have tried to seduce answers from you - but either way he doesn't deserve this. You're the only one in this place who thinks so, so you're it. His only hope."

God. I sound like the princess from Star Wars.

But she was desperate to fill the silence she'd so prized. Otherwise, she'd think about falling and death - or worse, failure. "You're doing good. Keep it up."

She lost her voice when she found herself hanging freely. A lump formed in her throat. Please, Lord. Don't let me fall. Don't let my hands sweat any more than they already are.