The Darkest Kiss

and…'

'A man who craves your touch.' He was a lot of things, but he wasn't evil. He didn't kill indiscriminately, didn't rape. He and his friends poured money into Buda, fortifying the economy, supplying food to the needy. That counted for something, right?

Hunters were the evil ones, viewing the world in black and white to justify their relentless pursuit of 'Utopia,' mowing over any human who got in their way.

Her breath hitched.

'I'm picturing you naked even now,' he forced himself to continue. 'Your skin is flushed, your nipples hard, moisture dripping between your legs.'

Gasping, she shut her eyes. 'S-stop. Please.'

'You're aching for a man's touch, aren't you, sweetheart?' What the hell was her name?

He never remembered names. He could fuck a woman only once, so there was never any need. Besides, he didn't want to call out the wrong name in the midst of passion. Women tended to take offense at that. 'Come here. Let me give you what you need.'

'This isn't right,' she breathed, but she stepped closer to him.

There was limited slack on his chains, so he couldn't reach out. He'd have to convince her to do all the work. 'I'm hard for you. My cock is hungry for you. Only you.'

Goose bumps broke over her skin.

With her face softened with arousal, she was almost beautiful. Her lashes were long, the longest he'd ever seen, and feathered like a peacock's tail. 'Feel your breasts for me. They want to be touched.'

Tentatively she reached up and did as he'd commanded. Another gasp escaped her. 'Oh, my.'

'Good. That's good.'

'I—I—'

Don't give her time to think. But watching her was destroying his concentration. 'Unbutton your pants and reach underneath them for me. Under your panties, too. Touch your clitoris. Spread your moisture around.'

She started to do as commanded, but froze with her hand poised at her flat belly. 'I can't. I shouldn't.'

'You can. You should. You want to, you know you do. It will feel so good.'

'No, I…' She shook her head, horror sprinkling into her eyes, as if she were seconds away from fighting past his hold on her mind.

Confusion and shock rocked him. She should not be able to fight him. 'Your clit is crying for your touch… sweet. But if you don't want to touch yourself, come over here and I'll lick you. I'll lick you until you scream.'

She was walking toward him before he'd gotten the last word out. He breathed a sigh of relief. Almost… there…'Just a little more, sweetheart. Just a little closer.'

Just before she reached him, however, and just before he could nuzzle her pants down and sink his tongue inside her hot sheath—where he would refuse to give her an orgasm until she rode him—she froze again.

'You keep calling me sweet and sweetheart.'

'That's because you are sweet. I can't reach you like this,' he said, trying not to whine. 'Just a little closer,' he repeated. 'I need you so badly.'

'What's my name?' She no longer sounded quite so breathless.

His jaw clenched and panic infused him. 'What does a name matter? You want me, and I want you.'

She frowned and backed away from him. 'You don't even know my name, and yet you're willing to sleep with me?'

'I would not be sleeping.'

'They told me not to trust you. They told me not to get close.'

His panic increased, hope slipping away. 'Sweet, let's—'

'Shut up!' Scowling, she massaged her temples. 'I don't know how you did that to me, reduced me to that, and right now I don't care. But don't you ever—ever!—do it again or I won't wait to find the box before I kill you.'

She stomped away, opened the barred door and slammed it shut behind her, locking him inside. Alone.

To grow weaker. Fuck.

MADDOX CARRIED A TRAY of food to the dungeon. He hated that Aeron had to be locked away like this, but like the other warriors, he had no alternate solution. Aeron had once been the strongest-willed among them. Fierce but loyal, by turns as rigorously controlled as Lucien and as volatile as Maddox used to be.

Maddox chuckled, remembering. They'd enjoyed sparring, he and Aeron, and had spent many hours honing their skills together. When Maddox lost control of his demon, it had been Aeron who helped bring him down. Now Aeron was merely a shell of his former self. Wild, savage, hate-filled.

If Aeron were set free, he would kill four innocent women, just as the gods had commanded. And if he killed those women, he would never recover from this bloodlust. From the beginning, Aeron had known that taking innocent lives would push him over the brink.

Maddox knew how that felt.

He had killed Pandora seconds after the demon of Violence entered his body. And he had spent untold centuries paying for it, killed every night the very way he had killed her—stabbed in the stomach six hellish times. Only, unlike poor Pandora, he always awakened the next morning knowing he had to die again.

But Ashlyn had saved him in more ways than one, giving him a reason to finally live. Now his precious woman carried his child.

As always, the thought caused his heart to swell and faint sickness to churn inside his stomach. What kind of father would he be? Already he loved the baby, knew he would protect it even if he were killed and had to fight his way from hell to do so.

He wanted the same sense of family for Aeron. Love, absolution. Freedom. Yet, the man truly was consumed by bloodlust. He couldn't be trusted around the warriors, his friends and brothers, much less a human female. So how he would find a woman to tame him, Maddox didn't know.

His head canted to the side as he descended the steps to the dungeon. There was no rattle of claws against the bars. For the first time in weeks, no curses echoed off the walls. It was eerily quiet. He set the tray on the floor and rushed forward.

When he reached Aeron's cell, Maddox experienced a wave of undiluted fear. The gaping bars had been pried apart.

Aeron was gone.

ACTING AS GUARD, REYES PACED the moss-laden perimeter of the too-quiet, sinister-looking Roman temple as his friends searched for clues about the Unspoken Ones. Since Lucien and the others knew where to begin looking for the artifacts, Sabin's crew was now hunting for information about the Titans. Their weaknesses. Their enemies.

Though the temple had been buried beneath the sea, blood still stained the remaining walls—walls composed of human bones. So far, the warriors had found nothing. Not even cutting themselves and dripping fresh blood onto the altar had worked. Reyes wondered for the hundredth time just what had occurred in this temple during its golden age. Sometimes he would swear he heard screams whistling on the breeze.

Lucien had appeared a short while ago, looking more relaxed and sated than Reyes had ever seen him. He'd even looked happy. What had brought on the change? Reyes was jealous, whatever it was. Jealous and glad for him. Yet even Lucien's sickeningly happy blood hadn't produced results. There had been no vision, no clue. And Reyes was tired of all this futility, of the helplessness and failure.

This morning, news of the temples had blasted from television stations all over the world. He wasn't sure why they were no longer hidden. He only knew humans would be arriving soon—Hunters, tourists, treasure-seekers and researchers alike. Time was more precious than ever.

'Damn this,' Reyes growled. He needed pain, he decided, or he'd shatter and kill someone. A mortal, a warrior. Didn't matter. 'I'll be nearby,' he told Sabin as he stalked past him. 'Shout if you need me.'

Sabin didn't try to stop him. By now, he knew better.

Reyes had a dagger unsheathed by the time he reached the temple's surrounding forest. He leaned against