The Darkest Night lotu-2

by Gena Showalter

  "Rest is productive."

  "No, it's not."

  "I do not know some of those men, Ashlyn. Not anymore. If one of them were to try to hurt you…" Even saying the words sparked a deep rage inside of him.

  "I want to help. I've never been part of a family before." Suddenly appearing more vulnerable than he had ever seen her, she flicked her gaze to her hands, which were twisting the fabric of her shirt. "All I've ever done is stand off to the side and listen, and all I've ever wanted to do is be a part of something. Let me help your family, Maddox."

  Something knotted in his chest. He could deny this woman nothing. Not even this. He would watch the men closely, hover over her shoulder if necessary, but he would not stop her from giving aid.

  "Go to my room and gather all the towels you can carry." He always had an overflowing supply. "Do you know how to find the entertainment room?"

  She shook her head and he gave her directions. When he finished, a delighted smile lit her face. "Thank you." She rose on her tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss on his mouth.

  He shouldn't have, but he immediately deepened it, backing her against the wall. She made him forget everything but desire. Her flavor flooded him, that unique drug he'd never get enough of. One of her legs lifted and wound around his waist.

  That quickly, passion trembled through him. His cock throbbed and his hand shook with the need to rip away her clothing and discover her naked curves once again. To plunge inside her body as surely as her tongue plunged inside his mouth, hot and wet, meeting him thrust for thrust. She moaned. He swallowed the sound. Delicious.

  "Maddox!" Reyes rumbled from down the hall. "Sometime today."

  With regret, he tore away from Ashlyn, severing all contact. Safer that way. One touch would lead to one more kiss. One more kiss and he would carry her back to his room, friends—and enemies—forgotten.

  "That was… nice," she said, fanning herself.

  His eyelids were heavy as he studied her. Her lips were red, swollen and moist, and she traced her tongue over them as if savoring the lingering taste of him. He had to look away, but his gaze was drawn back in the next instant. Her eyes were bright and golden, fevered. For him.

  A pulse hammered at the base of her neck. He found himself reaching out to stroke it, but stopped himself in time. None of that. Not now.

  "Maddox," Lucien called.

  "I said, are you coming?" Reyes shouted.

  "Towels," he said to Ashlyn, then turned on his heel before he talked himself into staying.

  That man fires me up, Ashlyn thought, watching Maddox stride down the hallway. He flew around the corner, disappearing from view. Her heartbeat still drummed erratically.

  Smiling dreamily, she traced her fingertips over her tingling mouth. Good thing Maddox had walked away. A few more seconds of that devastating kiss and she would have allowed him—ha, begged him!—to take her right here, where anyone could watch them.

  She heard a man grunt, another shout profanities, and snapped to attention. No time to moon over Maddox now. She jumped into motion. The air was chilly, a little damp, but invigorating. She loved the stained-glass windows here, the glistening stone that spoke of endurance and the passage of time.

  She'd like to visit the site of the bombing and listen to the conversations that had taken place there. Like to? Darrow, you will. More often than not, she hated her gift. There was no real purpose for it and no job meaningful enough to warrant her constant suffering. For Maddox, though, she'd happily, eagerly, tune in to the voices, over and over again. She didn't like the knowledge that there were men out there, hiding, waiting to kill him.

  When she snuck out to listen for ways to break his death-curse, which she planned to do tonight, she'd find out where the bombing had taken place and go there. If she was lucky, she'd learn where the hunters were hiding and how to save Maddox from dying.

  Probably wishful thinking on both counts, but hope was a silly thing.

  Her gaze snagged on a trail of blood, and her mouth fell open in horror. Only when she realized the injured warriors must have been up here did she relax.

  … somewhere. Right?

  The tiny bit of conversation suddenly whispered through her mind, surprising her. The new guys? Ashlyn stopped, one foot in midair. Her ears twitched as she listened, but nothing else assaulted her. Odd. That had been a man's voice, and hadn't been there a little while ago.

  She walked another step. Nothing. Changed directions, another step.

  Yes. I'm betting on it.

  There. Another snatch. Gulping, she continued in that direction…

  Come on, this way… where are they… hopefully still out… lost too many with those fucking booby traps… took too long to clean the mess… do they know… fight…

  … and soon found herself in front of the door that blocked Danika and her family from freedom.

  Ah, hell. Someone—several someones, actually—had sneaked inside. Not the new guys, then. Were they still there? Had they hurt the women? Ashlyn's hand shook as she reached for the knob. Wait. Maybe she should run and tell Maddox.

  The intruders might be hunters.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat. If they were the very men who'd planted that bomb, they could be planting another right now. She backed away, meaning to alert Maddox. You can't leave Danika and the others here, Darrow.

  "They'll be fine," she whispered. According to Maddox, hunters only wanted to hurt immortals. Right? Right. She backed up another step. Telling Maddox was the smart thing to do. He could stop them, she couldn't.

  But another step and conversation slammed into her mind.

  Where is she?

  I wish to God I knew.

  Do you think they… killed her?

  It's possible. Hell, worse is possible. They're demons. Pause, sigh. Damn it, I should have put more guards on her.

  Her boss, she realized. Dr. McIntosh was here. She should have been relieved to hear him, glad that he'd cared enough to track her down. But… he'd had men guard her? How had he infiltrated the fortress?

  Ashlyn, honey. If you can hear this, meet us at Gerbeaud at—

  What if she's locked up? She won't be able to leave on her own.

  Hush. I hear someone coming.

  Then, quiet.

  She scrubbed her fingers back and forth across her brow, trying to start a fire of intelligent thought. Were they still here? What would Maddox do if he found them? What would they do to Maddox? Panic raced through her. Okay, okay. Think, Darrow. Think.

  In the end, she didn't have to make a decision after all.

  The door in front of her opened and McIntosh peeked into the hall. His eyes widened when he saw her. His familiar, plain face comforted her—but for the first time, it also made her uneasy.

  "Ashlyn! You're alive!"

  "McIntosh, I—I—"

  "Shh, not here." He snaked out an arm and jerked her inside the room, softly shutting the door behind her. The first thing she noticed was Danika and her family, passed out on the floor.

  "Oh my God." She moved toward them but her boss's grip tightened, keeping her in place. Several other men were casing the room, looking for…what, she didn't know. Nor did she recognize them. She'd never seen them at the Institute.

  One of the men coughed, a gut-wrenching gag following, drawing her eye to him. There was blood on his hands. Sweet Jesus. He coughed again, doubling over. He was alarmingly pale and there were bruises under his eyes. Another cough.

  "Be quiet," McIntosh whispered fiercely.

  "Sorry. Throat hurts."

  "It didn't five minutes ago."

  "Does—" cough "—now."

  Ashlyn broke free of her boss's hold and rushed to Danika, crouching beside her. "Is she…" She felt for a pulse. Thump, thump. Thank God.

  "Just sleeping," McIntosh assured her.

  Relief sagged her shoulders. "Why would you do something like this? Why did you knock them out?" Even as she spoke, bits of their conversation playe
d through her mind.

  Who are you? Danika demanded. What are you doing here?

  I'll ask the questions. Who are you? her boss asked.

  Prisoners.

  Were you looking for the box, too?

  Ashlyn's heart sank at the query.

  Box? Danika's confusion was clear by her tone.

  Did they tell you where it is? McIntosh's excitement rang loud.

  He must have grabbed her, because she grated out, Let go of me.

  Did they?

  Reyes! Reyes, help!

  Shut up, or I'll be forced to silence you myself.

  Reyes!

  There must have been a struggle because Ashlyn could hear huffing breath, grunts of effort, Danika's family gasping and then crying, and then suddenly silent. More conversation about drugging the women and using them as bait later if necessary.

  Hunters, she realized, closing her eyes in horror. She'd suspected yesterday when speaking with Danika, but had promptly dismissed the thought, reminding herself how good and noble the Institute was. To be honest, a part of her had assumed no one would be able to keep such a secret from her. But these men were hunters. No denying it now. Opening her eyes, she fixed them on her boss.

  Nausea churned in her stomach. He'd known about the box all along. He'd been searching for it, but hadn't told her. Oh God.

  He'd lied to her. She'd devoted her entire life to a cause that didn't exist. McIntosh had read her fairy tales all those years ago, told her she was special, that she had a higher calling. She'd thought she was making the world a better place. Instead, she'd helped him destroy people, maybe innocents. A sense of betrayal washed through her, so strong it nearly dropped her to her knees.

  "You don't study the creatures I find for you, do you?" she asked softly. "Hunter."

  "Of course I do," he said, offended. "I'm a scientist, after all. Not every Institute employee is a Hunter, Ashlyn. You're proof of that. Ninety percent of our work is merely observation. But when we uncover evil, we stamp it out. No mercy."

  "What gives you the right?"

  "Morality. The greater good. Unlike the demons here, I am not a monster. Everything I do, I do for the safety of mankind."

  "How did I not know?" she gasped out. "How did I not hear?"

  He raised his chin, his eyes asking her to understand. "Only a few do the actual dirty work. And we never spoke of it on the premises. Nor did we let you into the places we'd been."

  "All these years." She shook her head, dazed. "No wonder you barely let me out of your sight. You didn't want me to stumble on information I wasn't supposed to have."

  "You want information? I can show you pictures of the things these demons have done. Things that will make you vomit. Things that will make you want to scratch out your own eyes, just so you never have to see such an image again."

  She clutched her stomach. "You should have told me the truth."

  "I wanted you to stay as removed as possible. I do care about you, Ashlyn. We knew there were two groups of demons. We've been fighting one for years and were always searching for the other. Then one of our female operatives discovered Promiscuity. We brought you to Budapest to listen and learn everything you could about these new enemies. You were never supposed to get close to them."

  Her life's work had turned out to be something malicious and sick. I was such a fool. "You came to kill these men, but they treat the people of Budapest only with kindness. They donate money as if it's water and keep criminal activity at a minimum. They keep to themselves and hardly venture out. You bombed a nightclub."

  McIntosh approached her, his expression determined. "We didn't come to kill them. We can't. Not yet. Years ago, it was discovered that to kill a Lord was to release its demon upon the world—a demon who's nothing more than a twisted vessel of destruction, warped from its captivity. No, we're here to capture the warriors. When we find Pandora's box, we can lock away the demons and dispose of the men who house them. You found that out for us, remember?" He reached her and grabbed her shoulders. "Do you know where it is? Did they tell you?"

  "No."

  "You had to have heard something. Think, Ashlyn."

  "I told you. I don't know where it is."

  "Don't you want to live in a world free from evil? Free from lies and misery and violence? You hear more of each in a day than most people do in a lifetime." He studied her for a long while, frowning. "I've nurtured your talent for years. I gave you a place to stay, food to eat and a life as peaceful as possible. All I asked in return was that you used your gift to find the creatures living among us."

  "And I've always done so. But I haven't heard anything new about the box," she insisted, sickened.

  His frown deepened. "You must have. You weren't a prisoner like these women. You were freely roaming the halls." As he spoke, his eyes widened, as if his own words had offered a startling revelation. He released her and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a syringe filled with clear liquid. "Are you working for the monsters now, Ashlyn? Is that what's going on? Were you working with them all along?" The betrayal in his voice would have been laughable if she hadn't been so frightened.

  She backed up a step, then another. Her back hit a brick wall and she tried to jump away. Strong arms banded around her, holding her in place. Not a brick wall, after all. A man. A hunter. She struggled to free herself.

  "Where's the box, Ashlyn?" the doctor demanded. "That's all I want. Tell me where it is and I'll let you go."

  Calm down. Stall him. Distract him. When she didn't appear with the towels, Maddox would come looking for her. "You're a hunter, but you don't have a tattoo on your wrist." Hadn't Maddox said something about tattoos? "Why is that?"

  He held up his arm and pushed the sleeve of his shirt down. An intricate black, sideways figure-eight stared at her. "I simply made sure you never noticed it. My father took me to get it on my eighteenth birthday when I made my vow to continue the family legacy."

  How had she never known? She felt so stupid. The woman who had thought herself impossible to deceive had been fooled for years. Shame and guilt joined ranks with her betrayal and fear.

  Just keep him talking. "Why the symbol of infinity?" she asked, barely managing to find her voice.

  "Our purpose is an eternity without evil. What better symbol?"

  "But the men here, they aren't evil. They really aren't. They've taken care of me. They've helped me. If you'd just get to know them, you'd—"

  Hate fell over his face like a curtain. "Get to know a demon?" He cracked his jaw. Stepped closer. "Those creatures of the underworld need to be destroyed, Ashlyn. They toppled Athens. The people they killed, the pain they caused…"

  "But hurting them makes you as evil as you claim they are. Have you not already killed people to get to them?"

  Without warning his arm whipped out, slamming the syringe into her neck. A sharp pain, a warm rush. She tried to jerk away. Too late. She was suddenly so light-headed she could hardly move. A strange lethargy worked its way through her body, weaving weakness and shadows in her blood, her dizzy mind.

  "Sleep," McIntosh said.

  And she did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Maddox could not believe what he was seeing. A hallucination? A nightmare? He had left the injured warriors to check Torin's room for any sign of the man's return. To his alarm, he had found blood smeared throughout the hallways. Now he stood in Torin's doorway, and he saw that Torin had indeed returned. He lay on the floor in a puddle of thick, dark blood. So dark it appeared black. Even his silver hair was tinted with that lethal red-black liquid.

  A deep gash slashed his neck.

  Someone had either tried to sever the head from his body and failed or had cut him to slow him down—and succeeded. Torin's eyes were closed but his chest rose every few seconds. He was still alive. But for how long?

  Bile rose in Maddox's throat—bile and rage and determination. Had Torin crawled home from the cemetery after this happened? Or had someone sneaked insid
e the fortress, attacking him from behind in the hall? Had Kane done it? Or a Hunter? Maddox scanned the room, dread building. No sign of Hunters, nor of Kane.

  He shouted for his friends as he considered his options. Torin was like a brother to him; he couldn't leave him like this to suffer. But he couldn't touch him, either. Though Maddox himself would not become sick, he would undoubtedly spread the disease to Ashlyn.

  Ashlyn. Had the culprit gotten to her, too? No. No! Help Torin and find her!

  Again, he called for the warriors.

  Skin to skin he could not risk with Torin. He would have to wear gloves. Urgency spilling through him, Maddox sprinted to the closet and withdrew one of the many pairs of black gloves Torin had stored there. He hastily pulled them from their sealed package and slid them onto his hands before draping a black shirt around his neck, protecting the skin there.

  He bent down and scooped the injured man into his arms. He carried him to the bed and wrapped a T-shirt around his bleeding neck, applying pressure to stop the flow. It was strange to be this close to him after centuries of distance.

  Slowly Torin's lashes cracked open, and Maddox found himself staring into pain-drenched green eyes. Already Violence was preparing for battle, sharpening its claws, demanding action.

  "Hunters," Torin gurgled. The word was barely audible. "On hill. Coming here. Fight. Want box. Touched me. Took Kane." He passed out after that, arm falling limply to the floor.

  Damn. Having done all he could, Maddox sprinted from the room, intent on finding Ashlyn and the others. Stay calm. She's all right. But the thought of her hurt or worse…"Ashlyn!" If the Hunters had gotten hold of her after they'd touched Torin, she could very well die of disease.

  A familiar black haze descended over his vision.

  She wasn't in his room, and it did not look as if she'd been there at all. The towels were undisturbed. She was not in the women's room, either. In fact, none of them were. No. No!

  From the corner of his eye, he caught the glint of silver.

  He strode onto the balcony, nearly breaking through the glass doors to get there. A rappel wire was hooked to the rail and hung all the way to the ground.