The Darkest Night (Lords of the Underworld #1)(88)

"Sleep," McIntosh said.

And she did.

Maddox could not believe what he was seeing. A hallucination? A nightmare? He had left the injured warriors to check Torin's room for any sign of the man's return. To his alarm, he had found blood smeared throughout the hallways. Now he stood in Torin's doorway, and he saw that Torin had indeed returned. He lay on the floor in a puddle of thick, dark blood. So dark it appeared black. Even his silver hair was tinted with that lethal red-black liquid.

A deep gash slashed his neck.

Someone had either tried to sever the head from his body and failed or had cut him to slow him down - and succeeded. Torin's eyes were closed but his chest rose every few seconds. He was still alive. But for how long?

Bile rose in Maddox's throat - bile and rage and determination. Had Torin crawled home from the cemetery after this happened? Or had someone sneaked inside the fortress, attacking him from behind in the hall? Had Kane done it? Or a Hunter? Maddox scanned the room, dread building. No sign of Hunters, nor of Kane.

He shouted for his friends as he considered his options. Torin was like a brother to him; he couldn't leave him like this to suffer. But he couldn't touch him, either. Though Maddox himself would not become sick, he would undoubtedly spread the disease to Ashlyn.

Ashlyn. Had the culprit gotten to her, too? No. No! Help Torin and find her!

Again, he called for the warriors.

Skin to skin he could not risk with Torin. He would have to wear gloves. Urgency spilling through him, Maddox sprinted to the closet and withdrew one of the many pairs of black gloves Torin had stored there. He hastily pulled them from their sealed package and slid them onto his hands before draping a black shirt around his neck, protecting the skin there.

He bent down and scooped the injured man into his arms. He carried him to the bed and wrapped a T-shirt around his bleeding neck, applying pressure to stop the flow. It was strange to be this close to him after centuries of distance.

Slowly Torin's lashes cracked open, and Maddox found himself staring into pain-drenched green eyes. Already Violence was preparing for battle, sharpening its claws, demanding action.

"Hunters," Torin gurgled. The word was barely audible. "On hill. Coming here. Fight. Want box. Touched me. Took Kane." He passed out after that, arm falling limply to the floor.

Damn. Having done all he could, Maddox sprinted from the room, intent on finding Ashlyn and the others. Stay calm. She's all right. But the thought of her hurt or worse..."Ashlyn!" If the Hunters had gotten hold of her after they'd touched Torin, she could very well die of disease.

A familiar black haze descended over his vision.

She wasn't in his room, and it did not look as if she'd been there at all. The towels were undisturbed. She was not in the women's room, either. In fact, none of them were. No. No!

From the corner of his eye, he caught the glint of silver.

He strode onto the balcony, nearly breaking through the glass doors to get there. A rappel wire was hooked to the rail and hung all the way to the ground.

Man and spirit bellowed in unison. There was no sign of the Hunters on the hill, which meant they were already a good distance away. Sweet gods, the Hunters had her. The Hunters had touched Torin and had then touched Ashlyn.

Sick to his stomach, he barreled toward the entertainment room. He removed the gloves and extra T-shirt along the way, dropping them on the floor wherever he happened to be.

"Towels?" Lucien asked when he spotted him. Obviously, he hadn't heard Maddox's cries for help. But he saw his friend's expression and frowned.

Maddox told the group what he'd discovered, the broken, panicked admission rushing from him. Each of them snapped to attention and clamored around him. Each of them paled.

"Did they breach our walls?" Paris demanded.

"Yes." Maddox turned to Sabin with a snarl. "Did you help them?"

The man held up his hands, the picture of aggravated innocence. "I was being blown to bits, too, remember? And my goal has always been their destruction."

"What of Danika?" Reyes asked roughly.

"Gone."

Reyes's eyelids squeezed closed.

"Torin needs medical attention," Paris said. "How are we going to manage that?"

"He'll have to heal on his own. Gods, there's going to be a plague," Lucien said grimly. "We can't stop it now."

Maddox's hands tightened into fists. "I don't care if there's a plague or not. My woman is out there. I'll do whatever is necessary to save her."

Strider stepped forward. "Kane was in that cemetery with Torin. He might have followed him back. Did you see him?"

"Torin said there was a battle on the hill. Kane was taken."

"Fuck," Sabin snarled, slamming his fist into the wall.

How had a day so bright with promise combusted so quickly?

"I'll go into town with you," Reyes said to him. He'd cleaned some of the soot from his face, but his feet were still charred and bare.

"I'll search the rest of the fortress." There was a blazing fire in Lucien's mismatched eyes. Aeron had once claimed that Lucien possessed a temper darker than the most violent of storms. Maddox hadn't believed him then. He believed now. "I'll make sure they aren't still here, hiding."

After seeing that rappel wire, Maddox doubted it. "Five minutes," he said to Reyes before racing to his room and loading his body with weapons. Knives, guns, throwing stars.