Lords of the Underworld Bundle (22 page)

She screamed as her arms and legs lashed out, trying to keep him at a distance. “Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me!”

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Aeron said calmly.

She kneed the sensitive flesh between his legs. He gasped, hunched a little, but gave no other reaction.

“Fuck you,” she snarled, a wildcat that wouldn't be tamed. “I won't let you rape me. I'll die first.”

“No rape. But if I must, I
will
knock you out. And you won't like my methods, that I promise you.”

Far from subduing her, the threat merely enraged her further. She fought harder, slamming her elbow into Aeron's stomach, kicking him in the groin a second time. Obviously growing weary of her struggles, Aeron raised his fist.

Ashlyn stiffened, moaned. “Stop this. I don't need the pills. I don't.”

“Do not hurt her,” Reyes growled.

Aeron didn't strike. Yet. He ran his tongue over his teeth. “She made her choice.”

If he hit her and Ashlyn witnessed it, Maddox feared she would want to leave again, would once again insist he take her home. “Calm down,” he told Danika. “He only needs to accompany you into town.”

“Liar!” Snarling, she used her leg to boot Aeron in the stomach.

The warrior didn't budge. Disgust fell over his features, and he tightened the fist he still held in midair. “I warned you.”

“Stop,” Ashlyn called hoarsely.

Maddox opened his mouth to utter his own command. He needn't have bothered. Reyes beat him to it. One second Reyes was on the far side of the room, the next he was at Aeron's side, gripping the man's wrist. The two glared at each other for a long, silent moment.

“No hitting,” Reyes said, and Maddox had never heard a more lethal tone.

A battle raged in Aeron's eyes before he lowered his arm. Had he lied? Was the gods' decree already taking root? Was he fighting the need to hurt Danika? “Calm her down, then, or I
will
knock her out.”

Reyes didn't move, just shifted the direction of his gaze. Tears poured from Danika's eyes, making the terror banked there glisten.

“Don't let him do this,” she whispered in that same broken tone Ashlyn had used. “I helped you, just like you wanted. Don't let him do this,” she repeated.

As quickly as Reyes had leapt to her defense, Maddox half expected him to give in to her plea. He was mistaken.

“Stop fighting him,” Reyes commanded, showing no mercy. “We need that medicine, and he is the only one who can take you to get it. You won't even scratch him because you can't afford to anger him. We clear?”

A look of betrayal passed over her face. “Why can't he go into town alone? Why can't he buy the pills at the nearest drugstore?”

“Maddox,” Ashlyn said. “I'm better. Swear. I don't—”

He squeezed her shoulder gently, but did not reply. Interrupting the trio would only increase the tension. Besides, he knew Ashlyn was lying. Pain still lingered in her eyes, glowing brightly.

“Aeron is taking you into the city,” Reyes continued. “He will not rape you. You have my word.” A muscle ticked below his left eye. “He would not know what to buy on his own—you must go.”

Silent, shaking, Danika studied his face through the watery shield of her lashes. Searching for truth? Or for comfort? Finally she nodded, a single, nearly imperceptible incline of her head. She straightened and took a wobbly step toward Aeron.

Without a word, Aeron grabbed her wrist and stalked to the room's only window. Its arching glass led onto a wide terrace. Danika did not protest, even as he unlatched the pane with his free hand, the glue Maddox had used earlier nothing to his superior strength. Cold air instantly blustered inside, virginal snowflakes swirling through the room. He released her wrist only to grip her waist and lift her onto the window ledge.

“Stop him,” Ashlyn rasped as Danika peeked over the rail and laughed bitterly, a little hysterically.

“What are you going to do?” the blonde demanded. “Throw me? You're all liars, you know that? I hope every single one of you rots in hell.”

“We already are,” Reyes said flatly.

Aeron gripped Danika's shoulders as he joined her, then spun her so that she faced him. “Hold on to me.”

Another bitter laugh. “Why?”

“So you'll live.” Large wings suddenly sprang from hidden slits in his back. They were long and black and looked as soft as gossamer, but the ends were pointed, sharp as knives.

Ashlyn gasped in shock. “I'm better. I swear I'm better.”

Maddox stroked her cheek, hoping to relax her. “Shh. Everything will be fine.”

Danika's eyes widened unnaturally. “Stop!” She tried to wrench herself from Aeron's grip, tried to race back inside the room, but he held tight. She reached for Reyes. “I can't do this. I can't! Don't let him take me, Reyes. Please!”

Expression tormented, Reyes stepped toward her…stretched out his arms…scowled…dropped them to his sides.

“Reyes!”

“Go!” Reyes shouted.

Without another word, Aeron jumped, falling from view and taking Danika with him. She screamed, but that scream soon became a gasp, the gasp a moan. Then the two came into view again, soaring through the air, Aeron's wings flapping gracefully, rhythmically.

“Stop him,” Ashlyn breathed. “Please.”

“I can't. I wouldn't even if I could. Do not worry for her. The wings of Wrath are strong, well able to hold Danika's slight weight.” He searched the room for Reyes, who paced from one corner to another. The man was gripping a dagger by the blade rather than the hilt and blood was dripping from his white-knuckled hand onto the floor.

“We need water and coffee,” Maddox told him, remembering Danika's instructions.

Reyes planted his feet and squeezed his eyelids closed, as if he fought for control. As if he teetered on the brink of a total meltdown. “I should have taken her myself, but walking would have taken too long. Did you see how frightened she was?”

“I saw.” Maddox didn't know what else to say. Danika's fear was nothing to him when compared to Ashlyn's pain.

Reyes rubbed a hand over his jaw, smearing a trail of crimson on his skin. “Water? Coffee, you said?”

“Yes.”

Seemingly grateful for the reprieve, Reyes strode from the room. Obviously Maddox wasn't the only one in the fortress who suddenly had woman troubles.

A short while later, Reyes returned with the desired items and set the tray on the edge of the bed. That done, he left again. Maddox doubted he'd return. Shaking his head in pity—if Reyes felt for Danika half of what Maddox felt for Ashlyn, he was destined for a world of hurt, and not the kind he craved—Maddox reached over Ashlyn and gripped the tepid glass of water. He slid one hand under her neck, tilted her head, and placed the rim of the glass at the seam of her lips with the other.

“Drink,” he told her.

Stubborn, she pressed her lips together and gave a slight shake of her head.

“Drink,” he insisted.

“No. It will hurt my—”

He dumped the contents into her mouth. She sputtered and coughed, but she did swallow most of it. Several droplets trickled down her chin. He tossed the empty glass onto the floor, heard a
thud.

Ashlyn glared up at him, accusation in those amber eyes. “I said I feel better, but that doesn't mean I feel great. My stomach is still sensitive.”

His mouth edged into a frown. Caring for a human was difficult, that was for sure. He did not apologize for forcing her to drink, however. What she needed, she would get. Whether she wanted it or not.

He gripped the mug of coffee, and his frown deepened when he realized it was cold. Oh, well. It would have to do. “Drink,” he ordered. For whatever reason—he still wasn't ready to ponder it—she was important to him. She mattered.

She was not escaping him. Not through death or any other means.

Ashlyn gave no indication that she'd heard him and certainly no hint of her intentions. In the blink of an eye, she shot out her arm and knocked the mug out of his hand. The movement was weak, but the ceramic hit the floor and shattered, leaving a black, caffeinated river.

Twin spots of color dotted her cheeks. “No,” she said, drawing out the single syllable with relish.

“That was uncalled for,” he chastised, brushing moist strands of hair from her temples, savoring the feel of her silky skin.

“I don't care.”

“Fine. No coffee.” He stared down at her, this woman who had shaken his entire world. “Do you still wish me to let you go?” The question left his lips before he could stop it. He hadn't meant to put the request before her, since he intended to keep her by whatever means necessary, but there was a need inside him—a foolish need—to give her whatever she desired.

She looked away from him, over his shoulder, past the wall, a peculiar intensity claiming her expression. Several minutes ticked by in silence. Torturous minutes.

He fisted the pillow. “It is a yes or no question, Ashlyn.”

“I don't know, okay?” she said softly. “I love the silence, and I'm beginning to like you. I'm grateful to you for taking care of me.” She paused. “But…”

But she was still scared. “I told you that I'm immortal,” he said. “And I told you that I am possessed. The only other thing you need to know is that I will protect you while you're here.” Even from himself.

What a change the last hours had wrought in him. Yesterday—this morning, even—he had thought to take her body, question her, then kill her. Yet he had since done everything in his power to keep her alive. And he was no longer certain what questions he wanted to ask.

“Will you protect the other woman?” she asked. “The one who helped me?”

Unless someone figured out a way to defy the Titans, he doubted anyone could protect the healer. Not even Reyes. But he gave Ashlyn a gentle squeeze and said, “Do not give her another thought. Aeron will take care of her.” That was not a lie.

Ashlyn nodded gratefully, and he experienced a twinge of guilt.

A few minutes passed in silence. He watched her, happy to note that her color was returning steadily now and the glaze of pain was fading. She watched him, too, her expression unreadable.

“How are demons able to do good deeds?” she eventually asked. “I mean, besides what you've done for me, you've done great things for the town with your donations and philanthropy. The people believe angels live here. They've believed it for hundreds of years.”

“How can you know that they've believed such a thing for so long?”

A tremor swept through her and she looked away. “I—I just do.”

No, she had a secret, something she didn't want him to know. He cradled her jaw and forced her eyes back to him. “I already suspect you are Bait, Ashlyn. You can tell me the truth.”

Her brow puckered, those dark, golden slashes drawing together. “You keep calling me that like it's something foul and disgusting, but I have no idea what bait is.”

There was genuine confusion in her voice. Innocent or actress? “I'm not going to kill you, but I expect total honesty from you from this moment forward. Understand? You will not lie to me.”

Frowning, she said, “I'm not lying.”

Slowly his blood began to heat, the spirit once again making its presence known. He hurried to change the subject. Hearing more lies might cause him to snap, to hurt. Bait or not, he refused to let it come to that. “Let us talk of something else.”

She nodded, appearing eager to comply. “Let's talk about you. Those men stabbed you last night, and you died. I realize you came back to life because you're an immortal demon warrior…thing. What I don't know is why they did it.”

“You have your secrets, and I have mine.” He planned on keeping her here and keeping her alive, and because of that, he wouldn't discuss his death-curse. She already feared him. If she knew the truth, she would despise him, too. Bad enough
he
knew what he had done to deserve such punishment.

More than that, if word spread of what happened to him every night, people might forget his reputation as an angel. Someone could snatch his body, cart him away, set him on fire or cut off his head and there was nothing he could do about it. He might desire this woman more than he'd ever desired another, but he didn't trust her. Some of his brain, at least, was still in his head and not in his cock.

“Did you ask them to kill you so you could go back to hell to visit your friends down there or something?”

“I have no friends in hell,” he said, insulted.

“So—”

“So nothing.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he squeezed her side. “It is my turn to ask the questions. You are not Hungarian. Where, then, are you from?”