The Darkest Night. Gena Showalter
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only wanted to see who had taken residence here. I’m not a hunter, I swear I’m not.
Ashlyn’s ears twitched, and she pressed deeper into the rocky wall. Hunter, the man had said. Maddox’s killers had called her a hunter. What did they mean? Bounty hunter? She frowned and rubbed her swollen, aching ankle. Who could ever think that of five-foot-five, average Ashlyn?
“Doesn’t matter. You have to find a way out of here, Darrow.” She had to tell the authorities what had happened to Maddox. Would they believe her? Would they even care? Or had the men here somehow bewitched them as they’d done the rest of the townspeople—angels, indeed—allowing them to do anything they wanted, whenever they wanted?
A sob gushed from her lips; a tremor raked her. No one should have to die that slowly, that painfully. Dignity gone. Cries unheeded.
One way or another, Maddox would be avenged.
MADDOX SCREAMED.
Flames licked him from head to toe. Blistering, melting away his flesh, reducing him to nothing but bone. No, not even bone, he mused in the next instant. The flames had reduced him to ash. But he was still aware…always aware. He still knew who he was, still knew what he was, and that he would have to return to the fire tomorrow.
The agony was nearly more than he could bear. Plumes of smoke thickened the air, scattering soot in every direction. Disgustingly, he knew that soot belonged to him. Was him.
Much too soon, it returned to where he had stood, fused together and became a body, a man—a man that once again caught fire. A body that once again melted bit by grueling bit, pouring flesh from muscle, then flickering orange-gold sparks over muscle before disintegrating altogether. There was another blackened breeze, returning everything to its place so the entire process could repeat itself. Again and again and again.
All the while, Violence roared inside his head, desperate to escape, no longer sated as it had been at the moment of his death. Blending with that were the sounds of the other condemned souls, screaming as the flames of hell devoured them. Demons, those disgusting winged creatures with glowing red eyes, skeletal faces and thick yellow horns atop their heads, fluttered from one tormented prisoner to another, laughing, taunting, spitting.
I have one of those monsters inside me. Except mine is worse.
The other demons knew it, too. “Welcome back, brother,” they would jeer before licking him with their fiery, forked tongues.
Always before, Maddox had wished to fade into nothing when the fire overcame him, never to return to hell or to earth. He’d wished to end his miserable existence and finally stop the pain. Always before—but not tonight. Not this time.
Tonight, pain was eclipsed by desire.
Ashlyn’s image rose inside his mind, taunting him far more than the demons. You’ll find nothing but bliss with me, her eyes seemed to say, lips parting, softening for a kiss.
She was a puzzle he yearned to solve. His first glimpse of heaven with her warm, amber-rich hair and honey-colored eyes. She was exquisite and lush, and so unequivocally feminine she called to his every masculine instinct.
Surprisingly, she had fought to stay with him. Had even fought to save him from the others, he’d realized only a few minutes ago. He didn’t fully understand why, but he liked the notion anyway.
He might not have known what he wanted to do with her earlier, but he knew now. He wanted to taste her. All of her. Bait or not. Hunter or not. He simply wanted. After all his suffering, he deserved a sliver of happiness.
Even in his days as an elite warrior to the gods, he had never desired a specific woman above all the rest. After, he had always taken what he could get, when he could get it. But Ashlyn, he wanted specifically. Ashlyn, he wanted now.
Where had Lucien placed her? In the room adjoining his? Did she lounge on the bed, naked body wrapped in silks and velvets? That’s how he would take her, Maddox decided then. Not outside as was his custom. Not on a cold, twig-laden ground. But in a bed, face to face, skin to skin, pumping and sliding slowly.
His body burned with the thought—a burn that had nothing to do with the flames.
She means us harm. We’ll harm her first and be the better for it, the spirit urged.
Do not dare suggest it, he commanded, trying to eclipse Violence—who, surprisingly, seemed content to discuss Ashlyn calmly now, rather than roar. I am not a monster.
We are the same, and that woman spells danger.
Yes, she did. Yet he’d never encountered a woman quite as vulnerable as Ashlyn. Alone in the forest, secrets in her pretty eyes. Killers on her trail. Whether they’d meant to ignore her, kill her or use her to kill him and the other Lords, he would find out.
In the morning, when Lucien returned his soul to his healed body, Maddox would find and question her. No, he would touch her first, he decided. Kiss her. Taste her entire body as he so desperately wanted to do right now.
Despite the pain, he found himself grinning with relish. The woman had looked at him with ecstasy in her eyes; she had tried to follow him, to save him. Yes, she had made her own bed. And now she would lie in it. With him.
Only after the loving was done would he question her. And if he discovered that she truly was Bait—there was a pang in his chest—he would deal with her as he’d dealt with the Hunters.
“THE TITANS HAVE OVERTHROWN the Greeks,” Aeron announced. The knowledge had been bubbling inside him since his return to the fortress an hour ago, but with all the commotion he hadn’t had a chance to share. Until now. Things had finally quieted—but he knew the peace would last only until his meaning sank in.
Frowning, he plopped onto the plush red couch, Maddox’s human no longer a concern. If only his words could be dismissed so easily—and what was suddenly making all that noise?
He looked around, scowled and grabbed the TV remote, flicking off the “movie” Paris had just turned on. Titillating moans ceased. The wet slap of man against woman faded from the flat screen. “You have to stop buying that garbage, Paris.”
Paris swiped the remote from him and switched the fleshfest back on. Thankfully, he punched the mute button. “Not pay-per-view, bro,” he said without a hint of remorse. “This one’s from my own personal collection. Oil Wrestlers Gone Wild.”
“You become more human every day,” Aeron muttered. “It’s embarrassing. You know that, right?”
“Aeron, you cannot make an announcement like that and simply change the subject. You mentioned the…Titans?” Lucien said in his ever-calm voice.
Ever-calm. Yes, that described Death perfectly. The immortal maintained an iron lock on his temper—on all of his emotions, really—for when it was unleashed, he was a force even Wrath feared. More than a beast, Lucien became a true demon. Aeron had only witnessed the transformation once, but he’d never forgotten.
“I thought I heard something along those lines, as well.” Reyes shook his head, as if that would help him understand. “What’s happening here? First Torin tells us the Hunters have returned, then Maddox comes home with a woman. And now you say the Titans have taken over? Is something like that even possible?”
“Yes, it is.” Unfortunately. Aeron scrubbed a hand over his chopped hair, the short spikes abrading his palm. How he wished he could next deliver happy news. “Apparently the Titans spent their centuries of imprisonment honing their powers. In recent weeks they escaped Tartarus, ambushed the Greeks, enslaved them and seized the throne. They control us now.”
There was a heavy silence as everyone absorbed the shocking news. No love was lost between the warriors and the Greeks, the very gods who had cursed them. But…
“You are sure?” Lucien asked him.
“Very.” Until