Lords of the Underworld Bundle

by Gena Showalter

  “No. I’m not.”

  Her palms flattened, just above his heart. “Does that mean someone else is?”

  His blood heated erotically, singeing his veins. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they aren’t. All right?”

  Her lips pressed into his neck and her tongue flicked over his pulse. “All right, but I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure they aren’t, either.”

  He hated denying her anything, so he clasped her chin, forcing her to face him, and gave her what he could. “I’m sorry you had to listen to their conversations. Never again will I put you in a room where humans have been.”

  “It wasn’t so bad this time.” Her fingers curled around his wrists, soft, gentle. “And I don’t hear anything when you’re around, no matter who’s spoken.”

  “I wonder why. I am not complaining—I am glad, just curious.”

  “Maybe the voices are afraid of you.”

  He almost grinned.

  “Actually, I wonder why I can’t hear any of your friends’ past conversations. I mean, I’ve always been able to hear other supernatural beings.”

  “Maybe we operate on a higher tier of existence.”

  She did grin.

  “Still, we will make sure I am always around you,” he said, and it would be his pleasure. “That way, the voices will never bother you again.” What about when you’re dead? The thought caused him to stiffen. There was no one to watch her then. No one to protect her.

  Sensing his anger, she frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He would not think of the coming death now. He had Ashlyn in his arms and he was going to enjoy her, savoring this small amount of time they had together. “No more talk of the women or curses.”

  “Well, now you’ve taken away most of our common ground.” Her gaze lowered, fastening on his lips. She shivered. “I’ve traveled all over the world for the Institute, but I never dreamed I’d meet someone like you.”

  “Strong?”

  A chuckle escaped her. “Yes.”

  “Handsome?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sharp of wit and skilled with a sword?”

  “Absolutely.” Another chuckle. “But I mean a man…friend…guy. Oh, I don’t know what to call you!”

  He savored her amusement—and her earnest words. “Just call me yours. That is all I want to be.”

  Everything about her softened. “Tell me something about yourself.” She tugged her face from his clasp and once again snuggled into his body. She didn’t remove her hands from his wrists but slid them down his arms and around his neck, as if she feared letting him go, even for a second. He feared it, too. He wanted her desperately. And would have her, he swore, after they showered, all traces of blood and death removed. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

  He could tell her that he liked classical music rather than the hard rock his friends preferred, but that information lacked the deeply personal touch she obviously craved. And Maddox found that he wanted her to know him better than anyone else in the world.

  His sense of peace—true peace—deepened. All because she was here with him. Because she had cried for him and cared for him. Because she didn’t judge his past sins or revile him. Because she wanted to learn about him, too. Because only he eased her torment.

  Because, when she looked at him, she didn’t see Violence. He suspected she saw man. Her man. A heady thought. Drugging. Shocking. Enough to earn his eternal devotion.

  “There have been a few times over the years that I wished to be human. And have a wife and—” he gulped, confessing “—children.” He’d never told his friends, who would have laughed. He should laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

  Violence? Near children?

  Ashlyn didn’t laugh, didn’t scold him. “That’s a beautiful dream,” she said, and there was a wistful catch in her voice. “You’ll make a wonderful father. Fierce and protective.”

  Humbled by her proclamation, though he knew he would never be given the chance to prove her words, he traced circles over each of her vertebra. “Tell me one of your secrets now.”

  Shivering, she drew her finger over the ridged peak of his nipple. His cock jumped in response; his blood blistered. No longer simply heating, but already an inferno. Still, he didn’t kiss her, didn’t roll on top of her. However much it pained his body, now was a time for talking.

  “I didn’t learn to read until last year,” she admitted shamefully. “Until then, I had to give all of my reports verbally, rather than typing them, and everyone knew why. I just couldn’t concentrate long enough to decipher the words. The voices were always there, disturbing me. When I was a kid, my boss would read stories to me, fairy tales so magical I could almost block out the whispers. That was when I became determined to learn on my own. But it took a long time to actually do so.”

  He didn’t care if she could read or not. But she cared, and he sought to comfort her. “That you learned at all is worthy of praise.”

  She gifted him with a brilliant smile. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t learn to read until hundreds of years after my possession, and then I only did so because I didn’t like others knowing something I did not. See? You are ahead of me already.”

  She chuckled, relaxing further. “Once I learned, I went online and ordered every romance novel I could find. They’re fairy tales for grown-ups. They were delivered straight to my door and I devoured them as fast as I was able.”

  “I will have Paris buy you some in town. An entire boxload.”

  “That would be lovely. Thank you,” she said again, giving him another of those smiles.

  His chest ached as he kissed the top of her head. “I’ve seen a few romance novels.” Paris had left a few lying about the fortress, and Maddox had—maybe, perhaps, might have, would never admit it aloud—picked them up. “Had I read them—” cough, cough “—I would probably think they were—” sexy, fun, enlightening “—interesting.”

  Her gratitude morphed into pure wickedness. “Maybe…maybe we can read one together or something.”

  “I would like that.”

  As hungry as he was for her, Maddox found it amazingly pleasant to pass the time just talking. She told him how she’d spent part of her childhood inside a lab, being tested—sometimes painfully, which meant he now had a list of scientists to kill—and how she still spent most of her time alone, just to escape the noise. She’d never really been part of a family. Only one man had ever treated her as anything more than an animal, and Maddox found himself indebted to that human.

  But Maddox seethed with the need to chase away those memories and replace them with better ones, happier ones. More than that, he seethed with the need to avenge her. “You deserved better,” he said, Violence finally stretching its arms and yawning.

  “I didn’t mind my upbringing,” she said. “For the most part, that is. I was always hearing things, so solitude was actually welcome.”

  But she’d missed playing and being touched, loved. He heard it in her voice, a need she couldn’t quite hide. You know her so well, do you? Yes, he thought. He did. A part of him, a part buried so deep he hadn’t realized it was there until she had materialized in his life, had known her from the beginning.

  She was his. His woman. His…everything.

  He caressed her arm and felt a small, hard, unnatural lump. He frowned and glanced down. “What’s that?”

  “Birth control,” she said, cheeks heating to a dark pink. “Standard agency procedure. A while back, a woman was raped on the job by a rabid goblin. She became pregnant and the child was…not normal. Now the Institute teaches us self-defense and gives all female employees the option of having the implant.”

  Violence arched its back and fluttered open its eyes, awakening further. The thought of this delicate beauty being forced was abhorrent to both man and spirit. She was a virgin, but that didn’t mean she had been left completely alone. “Were you ever hurt?”
r />   “No,” she assured him. “But I knew if the voices ever overtook me I wouldn’t be able to protect myself.”

  Violence did not relax.

  “Tell me about your childhood,” she said. Her fingertip again grazed his nipple. She rubbed against him, caught herself and stopped.

  His skin tightened with awareness. So did hers; he knew it. From the beginning, he’d always seemed to know when she was aroused. And right now, the woman was definitely aroused. “I did not have a childhood. I was created already a man, already a soldier.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I forgot.”

  I want her so badly. Last time he had stopped himself from taking her fully because she was a virgin. He was the same man he had been yesterday—he’d still never had a virgin and still wasn’t exactly sure of the best way to go about it—but none of that mattered now. He’d almost lost her. She had almost been taken from him.

  He would not wait another moment.

  He would be as gentle with her as he was able. And if the spirit sought to intrude, well, he’d allow Ashlyn to chain him. “I want to make love with you, Ashlyn.”

  Breath caught in her throat as she inched her fingers over the ropes of his stomach. Stopped at his scabs, then his navel, circled. Moved down another inch. Stopped again. “You do?”

  Want her, need her, want, need. Soon…now…Maddox thought perhaps she wanted to touch lower, to hold his cock, but hadn’t quite worked up the nerve. Yes, yes. He would have smiled but he and the demon were too primed.

  The more she touched him, the more he—they—wanted her. Her sweet scent was in his nose, firing his blood all the hotter. That sweetness trickled all the way to his bones, igniting all sorts of needs. “Oh, yes.”

  “I want you, too,” she whispered on a tremulous breath. “But…”

  No more waiting. Must have, must have, must have. A sense of ferocity pounded through him. Ours, the spirit said. Mine, Maddox corrected. “I want to be inside you. No more waiting.”

  She stilled, air wheezing from her.

  “I need you to understand that I’m keeping you. You will stay here with me, and I will protect you. Together we will learn how to stop the voices for good.”

  “M-Maddox.” Whatever else she meant to say was lost as she pressed her lips together.

  Yes. Must keep. “I won’t hurt you,” he said, more for himself and the spirit than for her.

  “I know you won’t hurt me. But I do have a life and a job.”

  Keep!

  “I’m going to stay for as long as I feel like staying, but I need your promise that you won’t lock me up again. When your friends come for you to—” she gulped “—kill you, I want to be with you. I swear I won’t attack them, even though I’ll want to, but I need to hold your hand. I can’t stand the thought of you dying alone.”

  In that moment, Maddox fell completely, absolutely, irrevocably in love with her.

  Mine, mine, mine. She was more important than breathing, more necessary than food or water or shelter. In a thousand lifetimes of war and violence and rage, she gave him kindness. Serenity. Compassion. Trust. Woe to anyone—even the Lords of the Underworld, even the gods—who tried to hurt her. He’d thought it before, but it became a blood oath now. Whoever attempted to harm her from this moment on would die at Maddox’s feet.

  Lucien and Reyes hadn’t taken her last night as they’d claimed, and that saved their miserable hides. Barely. They would pay, though. Oh, they would pay. Violence needed some sort of retribution before it could forget.

  “I don’t want you to have to watch. I won’t be alone, sweet. Pain and Death will be with me.”

  “Yeah, but they won’t snuggle you.”

  He contained his grin. “You are mine, woman, and I am yours. Until you, my life was desolate. I existed, but I didn’t truly live. Now I live, even in my death.” The words were as close to marriage vows as he would ever come, he was sure. She would always be his, and he would always be hers.

  Tears welled in her amber eyes. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “All I want you to do is think about what you are asking.” If he had to watch her die over and over again…Sickness churned inside of his stomach. “The blood, the horror of it…”

  “I know what I’m asking,” she said, determined. “I still want to stay with you.”

  Once again, need replaced all else. “You’re going to take a shower. Paris says human women love them, that they help relax and soothe.” He sat up, dragging her with him. Finally, finally.

  No, not yet. Soon. He would make Ashlyn’s first time special, even if it killed him.

  She twirled the ends of her hair around her finger. “Are you going to join me again?”

  Maddox forced himself to shake his head and the spirit roared in fury. Why not now? “If I shower with you, I’ll take you. Totally and completely.”

  Her gaze slanted over to him, hot, so hot, and he felt the force of it vibrate through him. “Like I told you, I know what I’m asking,” she whispered.

  Gods, he wanted to kiss her. But if he kissed her, he wouldn’t stop kissing her until he was inside her, pumping, pounding, sliding. “There’s something I have to do first.”

  “Afterward…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but then, she didn’t have to.

  “Afterward,” he promised. Oh, yes. Afterward.

  Slowly, the spirit smiled. For the second time in two days, man and demon were in perfect agreement.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ASHLYN HURRIED THROUGH the shower, wondering what it was that Maddox had to do. The water was hot, soothing, and washed away the trials of the night. Not the hated memory of holding her lover’s bloody body in her arms, but the physical effects. The fatigue, the nearly debilitating sense of despair, the rage at what had been done to the man she was coming to love.

  The man who might be coming to love her in return.

  The feelings might have come upon them quickly, but it just felt right. She wanted so badly to be with Maddox. Wanted so badly to hold and touch him, to give and receive pleasure. To bask in these new feelings of rightness. He no longer considered her Bait, and he wanted her to stay with him. Now and always. Her lips lifted in a slow, happy grin.

  How am I going to break his death-curse?

  The thought drifted through her mind, overshadowing everything in its path. Her smile faded. Surely there was something she could do to save him from an eternity of dying, only to be resurrected knowing he’d have to die again. No one deserved to be tortured like that.

  Ashlyn rested her forehead against the dewy white tile. Surely somewhere in the world, in some time period, a human had talked about the gods and how to break their stupid, unfair curses. She’d probably heard something over the years, but if so, it had blended into all the other voices.

  Now, at least, she knew what to listen for.

  Maddox wouldn’t want her to leave the fortress for that, she was sure, so she’d have to go without telling him. Besides, she couldn’t hear the voices when he was around.

  Until you, my life was desolate, he’d said. I existed, but I didn’t truly live. Now I live, even in my death. Fierce protector that he was, he’d consider his own suffering a small price to pay for keeping her safe. Already she knew that much about him.

  She’d leave at night, while he could do nothing to stop her, then sneak back in the morning.

  Don’t think about that now. There’s time enough for spy games later. In just a little while, she was going to make love with a man. With Maddox. His big, strong hands were going to caress her entire body. His mouth was going to taste her. His penis was going to slide deep inside of her.

  She shivered. First desperate to leave, now desperate to stay. Somehow, some way, she was going to contact McIntosh and let him know she was okay. Not now, though. After. After she experienced the most intimate of acts and knew how it felt to be joined with someone.

  Selfish of her, yes. But she c
ouldn’t have stopped herself for any reason.

  Without a doubt, Maddox was going to finish what they started this time. The tight coiling of his muscles as he’d held her on the bed had promised as much. And the white-hot look he’d given her before leaving the room had only solidified the knowledge.

  No longer would she worry that he’d abandon her afterward, as so many men had done to so many women throughout the centuries. Maddox was intense and passionate and different. He didn’t need to lie or issue false promises to get what he wanted. He had only to take.

  Yet he chose not to. He wanted her to give.

  Warm water soon became cold. Ashlyn turned the knobs, shutting off the steady stream. Drip, drip. Almost time, she thought, and moisture instantly pooled between her legs. Her nipples were as hard as rocks.

  Droplets slid down her skin, chilling her. She imagined Maddox licking them off, shivered again and nearly moaned. She grabbed a towel and patted herself dry as best she could before anchoring the fluffy white material under her arms so that it draped from breasts to knees. Eager, she exited the bathroom on a cloud of steam.

  Maddox wasn’t in the bedroom.

  She frowned…until her toes brushed something soft and she glanced down. Violet silk scarves formed a winding trail, leading from the bedroom to the room next door. When she stood in the entryway, she gaped in delighted surprise.

  She’d been in this room before, when she’d crawled over the balcony and through the window, but it hadn’t looked like this. Dust had covered everything then. The sheets, even. Now it was a room made for pleasure. Sconces glowed from the walls, golden light flickering over a bed of black silk. Maddox had cleaned it. For her. Her heart swelled in her chest, beating wildly.

  Where was he?

  The balcony doors were open, inviting fresh, cold air inside. She approached, her heated blood making her indifferent to the frigid temperature. Maddox gripped the balcony rail, his back to her, dark hair—damp, she noticed—in disarray. His shoulders were wide, tanned and bare.

  She’d never seen his bare back before.

  There was a huge butterfly tattoo that stretched from the top of his shoulders to just below the waist of his pants. It was red, almost neon, and it looked angry. Mean. As if it could leap off his back and slice her in two. Odd, she mused. Butterflies were such delicate creatures, she never would have imagined one could appear so menacing. Or that a man as, well, manly as Maddox would have such a design tattooed on his body.