The Darkest Night

'Never.'

'Why then?' she breathed. Groaned again.

'Accident,' he said. 'That wine wasn't meant for your kind.'

Whether she heard him or not, she gave no indication. 'Going to—' she gagged, covered her mouth with her hand '—vomit.'

He grabbed the empty fruit bowl and held it out. She pushed herself to the edge of the bed and emptied her stomach. He clasped her hair back, away from the line of fire.

Was purging herself good or bad?

Ashlyn fell back onto the mattress just as Reyes and Paris raced into the room. Both men looked confused. 'What?' Reyes demanded.

'What's wrong?' Paris asked. He was sweating, the lines of strain deeper around his eyes.

Reyes's arms were bleeding again, his hand swollen, and he held two blades, clearly ready for battle. His gaze took in the scene and his confusion intensified. 'Need help with the death-blow?'

'No! The wine… the ambrosia Paris puts in it. I left it for her.' The confession spilled from him, dripping with guilt and desolation. 'Save her.'

Paris wobbled, but managed to remain upright. 'I don't know how.'

'You must! You've spent countless hours with humans!' Maddox barely leashed a deafening roar. 'Tell me how to help her.'

'I wish I could.' He mopped his moist brow with the back of his hand. 'I've never shared our wine with others. It's ours.'

'Go and ask the other humans if they know what to do. If they don't, tell Lucien to flash into the city and find a doctor to bring here.' Death was the only one of the warriors who could move from one place to another with a single thought.

Reyes nodded and spun on his heel.

Paris said, 'I'm sorry, Maddox, but I'm at my limit. I need sex. I heard your call from the front door and came here instead of leaving. Shouldn't have. If I don't get into the city soon I'll…'

'I understand.'

'Make it up to you later.' Paris stumbled out and disappeared around the corner.

'Maddox.' Ashlyn moaned again. Sweat trickled from her temples. Her skin was still laced with blue, but was now so pallid he could see the tiny azure veins that swam underneath. 'Tell me… a story. Something… mind off… pain.' She closed her eyes, those lashes casting shadows on her cheeks again.

'Relax, beauty. You should not be talking.' He raced to the bathroom, emptied and cleaned the bowl and swiped a towel. He wet it down and returned, setting the bowl beside the bed—just in case. Her eyes were still closed. He thought she might have fallen asleep, but she tensed as he bathed her face. He settled behind her, unsure of what to say.

'Why did…friends stab you?'

He didn't discuss his curse, not even with the very men who suffered alongside him. He should not discuss it with Ashlyn. Anyone but her, in fact, but that didn't stop him. Looking at her, seeing her grimace from pain, he would have done anything to distract her. 'They stab me because they must. Like me, they are damned.'

'That… explains nothing.'

'That explains everything.'

Several minutes ticked by in silence. She began squirming, as if preparing for another round with the bowl. He had made her ill; he owed her anything she desired. He opened his mouth and let the tale of his life spill from him. 'Here is a story for you. I am immortal, and I've walked the earth since the beginning of time, it seems.'

As he spoke, he felt her muscles loosen their vise-grip on her bones. 'Immortal,' she echoed as if tasting the word. 'Knew you were more than human.'

'I was never a human. I was created a warrior, meant to guard the king of gods. For many years, I served him well, helping to keep him in power, protecting him even from his own family. But he did not think me strong enough to guard his most precious possession, a box formed from the bones of the dead goddess of oppression. No, he commanded a woman to do it. She was known as the greatest female warrior, true, but my pride was stung.' Thankfully, Ashlyn remained relaxed. 'Thinking to prove a mistake had been made, I helped release the demons inside upon the world. And in punishment, I was bonded to one.' He wound his arm around her waist and gently rubbed her stomach, hoping the action would soothe her.

She expelled a slight breath. Of relief? He hoped. 'Demon. I suspected.'

Yes, she had. He still didn't understand why she admitted it so readily.

'But you're good. Sometimes,' she added. 'That's why your face changes?'

'Yes.' She thought him good?

Filled with pleasure, he continued his story. 'I knew the moment I had been breached, for there was a shock inside me, as if parts of me were dying, making room for something else, something stronger than myself.' It had been the first time he had ever understood the concept of death—and little had he known just how intimately he would soon come to understand it.

Another delicate sigh escaped her. If she actually understood what he was saying now, he couldn't tell. At least she wasn't crying, wasn't writhing in pain.

'For a while, I lost touch with my own will and the demon had total control of me, forcing me to do—' All manner of evils, he mentally finished, visions of blood and death, smoke and ash and utter desolation filling his mind. He could barely tolerate the knowledge himself and would not taint Ashlyn with it.

To the very second, he recalled how the spirit's hold on him loosened, like a dream-haze clearing, the black smoke in his mind wafting away in a sweetly scented morning breeze, leaving behind only its hated memory.

The demon had compelled him to kill Pandora, the guardian it hated above all else. Bloodlust at last appeased, it had receded to the back of Maddox's mind, leaving Maddox to deal with the damage.

'Gods, to go back,' he said on a sigh. 'To walk away from that box.'

'Box,' Ashlyn said, startling him. 'Demons… I've heard something about that.' She opened her mouth to say more, then jerked. Crying out, she reached blindly for the bowl.

Maddox moved faster than he ever had before, leaping from the bed and swiping the bowl in seconds. The moment he held it out, she leaned over and retched. He cocooned her against his stomach through the worst of it, cooing to her like he'd never done to another. Giving comfort was new to him, and he prayed he did it correctly. He'd never even comforted his friends. They were all as private about their torment as he was.

When Ashlyn finished, he settled her back on the mattress and once more cleaned her face. Then he turned his gaze to the ceiling. 'I am sorry for the way I spoke of you,' he whispered to the heavens. 'But please do not harm her for my sins.'

Peering back down at her, he felt as if an eternity had passed since he'd first met her, as if he'd known her forever and she had always been a part of his life. A life that would collapse into nothingness if she were taken from him. How was that possible? Only an hour before, he had convinced himself that he might be able to slay her. Now…

'Let her live,' he found himself adding, 'and I'll do anything you want.'

Anything? a quiet voice asked, relish in the undertones. Not the voice of Violence, he realized, or any voice he had heard before.

Maddox blinked, stilled. A moment passed before his shock settled into mere confusion. 'Who's there?'

Startled by his outburst, Ashlyn dragged her red-rimmed eyes to him. 'I am,' she croaked.

'Pay no attention to me, beauty. Sleep,' he said softly.

Who do you think I am, warrior? Can you not guess who has the power to speak to you thus?

Another shocked moment passed before the answer took root. Could it be? A…Titan? He had sent pleas to the Greeks for years, and never had he been addressed within seconds. He'd never been addressed at all. And hadn't the Titans called Aeron to the heavens like this, with only a voice?

Hope—and dread—unfurled inside him. If these Titans were benevolent, if they would help, Maddox thought perhaps he would do anything. If they were malicious, however, and made things worse… His hands clenched.

They'd ordered Aeron to kill four innocent women; they could not be good. Damn this! How should he now