The Darkest Night

holding her, smoothing his hands down her back. 'You would have liked gentle better. Especially for your first time.'

Slowly she smiled. 'I doubt it, but I'm willing to let you try and convince me.'

Amazement flickered in his eyes a split second before he had her straddling his waist. 'That will be my pleasure.'

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Never, in all his life, had Maddox been so sated. Not in all his thousands of years.

Thrice he'd made love to Ashlyn and now she was sleeping next to him, tucked into his side, breath traipsing over his ribs. After hard and fast, then slow and tender, she'd claimed she needed a reminder of what hard and fast was like before deciding which she liked better.

He'd been shocked, awed and humbled by her words, for he'd shown her the worst, the beast, the part of himself that he despised, but she had not run screaming. Hadn't cried. No, she had asked for more.

He grinned at the memory. A true, unrestrained grin, he thought, amazed. When the spirit had demanded Maddox mark her, he'd been helpless to do anything but obey. So he had bitten her and drawn blood. Everything virtuous inside of him had screamed in protest, ashamed. But she had liked it; she truly had not minded, had even bitten him in response. And now he felt free. He did not have to fear his reactions with her. He did not have to fear.

She was everything he had never known he needed, everything he could never live without. She had… tamed him. She had charmed the spirit. He'd told her his plan to keep her, and he'd meant it. She belonged with him, now and always.

Slowly he traced a fingertip over her spine. She murmured in her sleep and burrowed deeper against him. Her breast pressed against his underarm, spearing him with heat. What a treasure she was. He'd gone into the forest looking for a monster, but found salvation instead.

With Ashlyn, Violence was not truly violent. Instead, the spirit was made into something beautiful. Dark, yes. Always dark. But sensually so. Not evil, but needy. Not destructive, but possessive. Two days ago, he would not have thought such a thing was possible.

Ashlyn. Demon tamer. He chuckled softly, careful not to wake her. After their excess, she needed to conserve her energy. He had plans to ravish her lat—

Below them, a door slammed. A man cursed. Maddox recognized the raspy baritone instantly. Reyes had returned.

Maddox's mood instantly thundered from contentment to anger. They had unfinished business, he and Reyes. A warning was in need of delivery. Something to show the warrior that any attempt to hurt Ashlyn would come with consequences.

Maddox rolled from the bed, pausing to make sure he had not disturbed his woman. Her eyes remained closed, lashes casting shadows over her rosy cheeks.

Quietly he dressed. T-shirt, pants, boots. Daggers. She's ours. No one hurts her. The spirit wanted vengeance, as well, and was seething under his skin, in his blood, spreading flames, blistering… melting… but Maddox did not lose control.

I am angry, yet I am dictating my own actions, he thought, baffled. I decide. It was strange. Wondrous and exhilarating. And he owed this newfound control to Ashlyn.

With a backward glance at her sleeping form, he stalked from the room. The spirit's mood blackened with every step away from her, but still it never managed to regain command.

Maddox found Reyes in the foyer, but the warrior was not alone. The rest of the Lords were also there, every one of them cut and bleeding and covered in black soot. There were also men Maddox did not recognize—

No, surely not, he thought, blinking.

'Sabin?'

No one paid him any heed. Sabin—dear gods—was too busy peeling off his shirt and studying a deep gash in his side. Lucien had his arm wrapped around… Strider. Cameo sat on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest. Her dark hair was singed at the ends and the left side of her face was burned. Gideon and Amun were propped against the wall, as if they couldn't stand on their own.

Seeing the warriors after so many years was like a blow to the stomach. What were they doing here? Why had they come?

Paris groaned, drawing his attention. The warrior's forearm was broken so badly the bone peeked through the skin. Aeron was… Maddox frowned. Aeron was cuffed to the banister and cursing loudly. Blood dripped from his forehead, a crimson river. 'Kill. I must kill,' he said, voice thick and layered with malevolence. 'I need their blood. Hmm, blood.'

Just as the Titans had vowed, Wrath must have taken over. That meant the need to slay those four women now consumed him. Would he have to be chained from now until the Lords found a way to save them—or until they were dead?

With the thought, hatred spilled through Maddox. Hatred for the Titans, for bringing his friend to this point. Hatred for the Greeks for their initial curse, the Hunters for their relentless pursuit and, most of all, his younger self for opening the box on that disastrous night.

'What's going on?' Maddox demanded. That he did not simply attack proved just how much Ashlyn had changed him. 'Did you set off one of our traps on the hill?'

A few of the warriors glanced up at him, though most ignored him. 'No,' Sabin muttered. 'Those we avoided.'

'Bomb,' Reyes said, not bothering to look up. He was in the process of removing his boots—boots that were practically melted to his feet. He was smiling.

'One of ours?' Maddox insisted, not trusting a word out of Sabin's mouth.

'Hardly. I know better than to blow myself up.' Reyes sighed, finally deigning to look at him. There was confusion in his eyes. 'Why aren't you railing on me?'

Quick as a snap, Maddox unsheathed a dagger and hurled it end over end toward the warrior. In a blink, he'd unsheathed the other one and hurled it at Lucien. The blades sailed over each man's left shoulder and lodged in the wall behind them. 'Have no doubt, if you ever plan something like that again, I will kill you.'

Lucien's gaze was flat. He appeared calm, and yet Maddox sensed something bubbling under that serene surface. His features were strained, as if he were a block of ice that had been hammered at one too many times. Was he ready to crack? 'You should be glad we failed to find her. I am. The Hunters played us like violins, drawing us to a specific location and greeting us with bombs.'

Bombs. A new war truly had begun, then. Maddox descended the rest of the steps, teeth grinding together. He stepped around a bucking Aeron and was punched in the thigh for his efforts. That was better than being stabbed, he supposed.

'So why is Sabin here?' He did not face the man in question. 'Did he bring the Hunters?'

'Apparently, the Hunters were already here. Sabin followed them and now wants us to help him find dimOuniak.' Reyes tossed his ruined boots aside. Raw, oozing blisters covered his bare feet.

'Sorry to spring our old friends on you.' Gripping his broken arm, Paris slammed it against the wall, popping the bone back into place. He winced, paled. 'But it's amazing what decisions you'll make when your brains are splattered over a nightclub dance floor.'

Lucien flattened his palm on the wall and leaned over, grimacing. 'By the time we gained our bearings, the Hunters were gone. They had not left a trail and we didn't know if they would be lying in wait at Sabin's hotel. Here, at least, we knew we'd all be safe, since Torin has us under surveillance.'