Lords of the Underworld Bundle (28 page)

Tears of shame stung her eyes.

“They tricked you, huh?” Danika asked gently.

She nodded. Had Maddox wanted her, even a little, or had he simply wanted to seduce her for information about her obviously nefarious plan? She suspected the latter, and it hurt. Cut deep. How many times had he accused her or questioned her with suspicion in his eyes?

No wonder he'd so easily resisted her bumbling attempt to talk him into finishing what they'd started. No wonder he'd dumped her here.
Idiot!
she thought again. Yes, that's what she was. Her only excuse was that she didn't have a lot of hands-on experience with men.
And this is why!
They were bastards. Users and seducers.

“Tell me about the voice you're hearing,” she said to Danika. Anything to get her mind off Maddox—before she burst into sobs of disappointment and resentment.

Danika's expression iced over. “I haven't mentioned any voice to you. They've been watching us, haven't they? Is there a camera hidden in here or something?”

“I don't know.” Ashlyn raised her knees and propped her chin in the dent between them. “Maybe there's a camera, maybe there isn't. Given how confused they were by Tylenol, I'm not sure any of them would know how to operate one. In any case, that's not how I learned about the voice.”

Did Danika have an ability similar to Ashlyn's? Ashlyn had never met another like herself, but she was learning to expect the unexpected here. “Tell me the rest. Please. We're in this together. We can help each other.”

“There's nothing to tell.” Danika stalked through the room, feeling the walls. “I'm going crazy. There, is that what you wanted me to admit? Some guy started talking in my head this morning. We've had some real stimulating conversations.”

One voice. A man's. Not many voices, male and female. Not Ashlyn's ability, after all. “Tell me,” she urged again. Her stomach chose that moment to rumble, a booming concerto in the uncomfortable silence that followed. “What has he said to you?”

With a scowl, Danika plucked a piece of cheese from the platter perched on the vanity. She tossed it at Ashlyn before commanding her family to help search for cameras. Just in case. “He asked for the 411 on our captors.”

“Like?”

“Like their daily routine, what weapons they have and what security system the fortress has.” She laughed, but there was no humor to the sound. “I think it's my mind's crazy way of coping with what's happened.”

Ashlyn didn't think so. Those questions were too invasive, too specific, the kind of information a soldier would want to gather on his enemy.

So…if it wasn't Danika who wanted data on the men, who was it? And who had the power to ask without benefit of a body?

 

“I'
M SICK OF THIS SHIT
,” Paris grumbled. “Just once today, I'd like to stay in town and relax after screwing, rather than rushing back here. Hello, I can't flash like Lucien.” He plopped in front of the TV screen and turned on his favorite Xbox game. Naked mud wrestling. His color was high and the strain had vanished from his features. “What's the meeting about this time? And FYI, I didn't see any Hunters.”

“That's because all you see are potential bedmates,” Aeron replied.

“And there's a downside to that?” Paris asked, unperturbed.

“Stop arguing,” Lucien said. “We've got some business to take care of, and I don't think anyone's going to like what they hear.”

Maddox leaned back on the couch and scrubbed a hand down his face. Violence pounded through him, hot and dark. Hotter than usual. Darker than usual. Barely caged. It didn't like being away from Ashlyn. The woman who had tried to lure him to bed. The woman he'd turned away. What kind of idiot turned away a woman such as her?

She'd wanted him, for gods' sake.

He'd wanted her just as badly. Still wanted. Wanted her supple body wrapped around his, wanted her mouth on his. Or on his cock. He wasn't picky. He wanted her cries of abandon in his ears, her sweet taste in his mouth.

He should have taken her when he'd had the chance. Instead, he'd deposited her in Lucien's room after removing the barricade—overkill, if you asked him, when there was a perfectly good lock on the knob—and cleaned his own. Then he'd found himself summoned to the entertainment room where there was, apparently, nothing but more bad news to pass around.

“Tell them, Aeron,” Lucien said on a sigh.

Pause. Then, “I've felt the first stirrings of Wrath. Nothing drastic. Yet.” He propped himself against the far wall. He pounded a fist into the stone behind him as if to punctuate his admission. “It's manageable, but I'm not sure how long that will last.”

“He can smell the humans now, and their scents won't leave his nose,” Reyes said.

Maddox wondered at the fury in the man's tone.

Paris paled. “Fuck. That was fast.”

“No one knows that better than me,” Aeron replied.

Maddox suppressed a growl. How much more would he and the others be forced to endure? He'd learned a bit ago that there
were
other Hunters out there, hiding in town. According to Aeron, they appeared even stronger and more capable than their predecessors.

Because of what Ashlyn had revealed about her ability, Maddox had to wonder if they were here for
her,
too. A woman whose job it was to listen for nonhuman creatures would be a valuable tool indeed. The very notion infuriated his demon, made them both want to torture, maim,
kill.

“I'm not sure how much longer I can go without hurting them.” Aeron rubbed the back of his neck. “Already I see their bloody bodies in my mind and I like it.” There at the end, his voice cracked. A slight change, but there all the same.

“Does no one have an idea?” Reyes tossed his knife in the air, caught it and tossed it again. “Anything that might save them?”

Silence.

“Talking about it is pointless,” Torin finally said. “We're only tormenting ourselves, trying to come up with a solution that isn't there. We can't approach the Titans; they'll give us all another curse. We can't set the women free and tell them to hide. Aeron will only be forced to follow them. So, I say let him do it.”

Reyes glared at him. “That's a little callous even for you, Disease.”

What would he do if Aeron were ever ordered to kill Ashlyn? Maddox wondered. Cruel as he was learning these new gods were, he suspected they'd issue the command without hesitation. He leapt to his feet with a roar, smashing his fist into the wall.

All conversation stopped.

The act felt good, so he did it again. And again. His hands had yet to fully heal from his battle with Aeron, and this didn't help. The spirit must truly feel bonded to Ashlyn, too, because even it wanted to kill something at the thought of losing her.
Go get her. She's ours. She belongs to us.

Almost always before, he and the spirit had disagreed. Man and beast, each against the other. To share a common desire was shocking. He punched the wall again and stone crumbled to the ground.

“The little woman isn't calming us, I see,” Torin said with a short laugh.

Maddox turned away from him in time to catch Aeron exchange a loaded glance with Lucien. “What?” he snapped at them.

Lucien held up his hands, all innocence.

“Nothing,” Aeron said. “Just…nothing.”

“How many times do you have to be told? She's Bait, man.” Reyes gave his dagger a final toss, end over end, and the tip embedded just above Maddox's shoulder. “Surely you know that by now.”

“If you don't, you're a fool,” Aeron said, maintaining that conversational tone. “Maybe I'll kill your precious Ashlyn when I kill the others, and break her spell over you once and for all.”

Just like that, the spirit erupted fully, washing over him, consuming him.
No one threatens our woman.
No one. Black spots winked over his vision, followed quickly by red.

“Ah, hell,” Lucien said. “Look at his face. You knew better, Aeron.”

Knocking over tables and kicking chairs, Maddox fought his way toward Aeron. He left a trail of destruction in his wake, even picked up the plasma screen and tossed it to the ground, shattering it.

“Hey,” Paris protested, as his game went silent. “I was winning.”

Only one word drifted through his mind:
kill. Kill, kill, kill. Kill.
Woe to anyone who was foolish enough to get in his way. When he reached Aeron, the man had already unsheathed two blades. Maddox didn't bother with a weapon; he would flay the bastard with his bare hands. He wanted blood soaking his fingers, wanted bones scattered on the—Ashlyn's face suddenly flashed through his mind.

Her head was thrown back, her golden hair wet and cascading down her back. Water droplets slid over her stomach and caught in her navel. Pleasure shuddered through her.

Reyes and Lucien leapt on him, dragging him to the ground and shoving Ashlyn from his head. He bellowed, a howl so loud he expected glass to shatter. Fists flew—his, theirs, he didn't know. Someone kneed him in the stomach, knocking the breath from his lungs, but he didn't stop.

Kill. Kill.

If he'd had fangs he would have bitten, so badly did he crave the taste of blood. He would have drained someone dry. As it was, he brought up a booted foot and kicked somebody in the cheek. Grunted in satisfaction when he heard a howl.

“Pin his fucking legs.”

“Can't. Got his arms.”

“Knock him out, Paris.”

“Sure. Want me to spew diamonds from my ass while I'm at it?”

A fist collided with his jaw. His teeth rattled and he tasted the blood he'd craved.

“That's for ruining my game.” Paris. “Bunny was about to spread oil on Electra.”

“I'll kill you. I'll—” Ashlyn's pleasure-drenched image flashed once again. Her eyes alight with passion. Her head thrown back as she enjoyed his mouth on her, licking every drop of her femininity.

He stilled, realization slamming into him. What was he doing? What the hell was he doing? He didn't want blood and death on his hands. He didn't. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't Violence.

Suddenly he was ashamed of his actions. He should have had more restraint. He knew better.

Panting, he tried to sit up. The men tightened their grips. He relaxed, not forcing the issue.
No more,
he vowed.
No more attacking my friends.

We have to protect Ashlyn,
Violence growled.

A desire to protect? From the demon?

We will, just not this way. Not like this.
The more he gave in to the spirit, the more he became Violence. When had he stopped fighting against it so fervently?

Sometimes, when he was alone, he liked to think that if he'd been born a human, destruction would have been the furthest thing from his mind. He would have married, had a loving wife and laughing children who played at his side while he carved. Carving furniture—chests, dressers, beds—had once been a pleasure for him.

Since he had destroyed everything he'd ever created, he'd given up the hobby.

“He's stopped moving,” Reyes said with surprise.

“I can't see the spirit anymore.” Aeron. Confused.

“Hey. We didn't even have to chain him.” Paris.

“This is a first.” Torin. Still laughing.

They released him and stepped away in unison. Maddox shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and piece together what had just happened. He had been consumed by Violence, yet he hadn't murdered everyone in his path. Nor had his friends been forced to bind him to impede him.

Gingerly, he sat up and glanced around the room. Total destruction greeted him. Wood splinters, ripped foam cushions, black TV shards. Yes, he'd been consumed.

His brows puckered in confusion. Usually he had to be knocked out and chained. Or beaten so badly he could only wait in bed until Pain and Death came for him. Yet thoughts of Ashlyn had soothed him completely.

How?

“Good now?” Reyes asked him.

“Yes.” The word was raw, hoarse. Someone must have choked him.

He pushed to his feet and stumbled to the couch. No cushions, not anymore, but he didn't care. He fell onto the hard springs. They squeaked under his weight.

“Good thing Torin knows how to invest,” Paris said, glancing around as he sat beside Maddox. “Looks like it's time to splurge on new furniture.”

“Where were we?” Lucien asked, getting them back to the business at hand. There was a cut on his forehead, one that hadn't been there a few minutes ago.

A wave of guilt swept through Maddox. “I'm sorry,” he said.