Lords Of The Underworld - The Darkest Night Part 4

"Stop!" Maddox shouted. "Help!"

All three men spun, facing him.

"What's going on?" Reyes demanded. Seeing Ashlyn, he gaped. Shock settled over his features. "Why have you brought a woman into the house?"

Hearing the commotion, Paris and Aeron raced into the foyer, features taut. When they spotted Maddox, they relaxed. "Finally,"

Paris said, clearly relieved. But he, too, spotted Ashlyn. He grinned. "Sweet! A present? For me?"

Maddox bared his teeth. Kill them, Violence beseeched, a seductive whisper now. Kill them.

"You shouldn't be here." The words tore from his throat. "Take her and leave. Before it's too late."

"Look at him," Paris said, his relief and amus.e.m.e.nt gone. "Look at his face."

"The process has already begun," Lucien said.

The words spurred Maddox to action. Though he found he didn't want to release Ashlyn, even in his madness, he tossed her at the group. Lucien caught her effortlessly. The moment her weight settled on her feet, she winced. Must have twisted her ankle on the hill, Maddox realized, concern slipping past bloodl.u.s.t for a split second.

"Careful of her foot," he commanded.

Lucien released her to look at her ankle, but Ashlyn scrambled away from him and limped her way back into Maddox's arms.

His concern intensified as his arms wound around her. She was trembling. But a moment later, he stopped caring. A pestilent haze fell over his mind, brutality obliterating every emotion in its path.

"Release me," he growled, pushing her.

The woman clung to him. "What's wrong?"

Lucien grabbed her, jerking her backward and locking her in an iron grip. Had she touched Maddox a second longer, he might have clawed her to pieces. As it was, he slammed his hands into the nearest wall.

"Maddox," she said on a tremulous breath.

"Do not hurt her." The words were for himself as much as the others. "You," he grated, pointing to Reyes with a crimson-stained finger. "Bedroom. Now." He didn't wait for a response, but pounded up the stairs.

He heard Ashlyn fight for freedom and call, "But I want to stay with you."

He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He allowed himself a single glance over his shoulder.

When Lucien further tightened his hold on the struggling Ashlyn, his dark hair brushing her shoulders, Maddox's need for bloodshed strengthened. He almost changed paths, almost sprinted back into the foyer to hack his friend to pieces. Mine, his mind shouted. Mine. I found her. No one but me should be allowed to touch her.Maddox wasn't sure whether it was the spirit or himself who thought such a thing, and he didn't care. He just wanted to kill. Yes, kill. Fury, such fury, exploded through him. He did stop. Did change direction. He was going to slice Lucien in half and coat the floor with his friend's blood. Destroy, destroy, destroy. Kill.

"He's going to attack." Lucien.

"Get her out of here!" Torin.

Lucien dragged Ashlyn from the room. Her panicked cries echoed in Maddox's ears, which only managed to increase his darkest needs. The image of her pale, lovely face flashed in his mind over and over again, becoming the only thing he saw. She was terrified. Trusted him, wanted him. Her arms had reached for him.

His stomach was a stinging ma.s.s of pulsing agony, but he didn't slow his steps. Any minute, midnight would arrive and he would die-but he was taking everyone here with him. Yes, they must be destroyed.

"Ah, h.e.l.l," Aeron muttered. "The demon has taken over completely. We'll have to subdue him. Lucien, get back in here. Hurry!"

Aeron, Reyes and Paris advanced. With the speed of a single breath, Maddox unsheathed his daggers and launched them.

Expecting the attack, all three men ducked and the silver blades soared over them, embedding in the wall. Two seconds later, the men were on top of him and he was lying flat on his back. Fists jabbed into his face, his stomach, his groin. He fought.

Roaring, growling, punching.

Knuckles slammed into his jaw, dislocating the bone. A knee jammed into the sensitive flesh between his legs. Still he fought.

And as the battle raged, the warriors managed to drag him up the steps and into his bedroom. Maddox thought he heard Ashlyn sobbing, thought he saw her trying to tear the men away from him. He jabbed his fist forward and hit something-a nose. Heard a howl. Experienced satisfaction. Wanted more blood.

"d.a.m.n it! Chain him, Reyes, before he breaks somebody else's f.u.c.king nose."

"He's too strong. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold him."

Minutes pa.s.sed as he fought, maybe an eternity, then cold metal locked around his wrists, his ankles. Maddox bucked and arched, the links cutting into his flesh. "b.a.s.t.a.r.ds!" The pain in his stomach was unbearable now, no longer sporadic but constant.

"I'll kill you. I'll take every one of you to h.e.l.l with me."

Reyes stood over him, a dark glaze of determination and regret blanketing his tanned features. Maddox tried to knock him down by raising his knees and kicking, but the chains held. The warrior, too, held steady, withdrawing a long, menacing sword from his side.

"I'm sorry," Reyes rasped as a clock chimed the hour. And then he stabbed Maddox in the stomach.

The metal sliced all the way to his spine before leaving his body. Instantly blood poured from the wound, wetting his chest and stomach. Bile burned his throat, his nose. He cursed; he bucked.

Reyes stabbed him again. And again.

The pain... the agony... His skin felt scorched. With only those three slices, his bones and organs were already shredded, each tear a point of anguish. Still he fought; still he felt a desperate urge to kill.

A woman screamed. "Stop! You're killing him!"

When her voice pierced Maddox's consciousness, his struggles became all the more wild. Ashlyn. His woman from the forest.

His. Get to her, had to get to her. Had to kill her-no! Had to save her. Kill...save...the two needs battled for supremacy. He jerked at his chains. The metal shackles dug deeper into his wrists and ankles, but he reared up and kicked. The bed shook with the force of his movements, and both the headboard and footboard bent forward with a whine.

"Why are you doing this?" Ashlyn shouted. "Stop! Don't hurt him. OhmyG.o.d, stop!"

Reyes stabbed him again.

Black cobwebs wove over his vision as he searched the room. Paris, he saw dimly, was striding toward Ashlyn. Reached her, wrapped his arms around her. She was dwarfed by the larger man, enfolded in his shadow. Tears glistened in those amber eyes and on her too-pale cheeks.

She fought, but Paris held firm and dragged her from the room.

Maddox uttered an animalistic roar. Paris would seduce her. Strip her and taste her. She would not be able to resist; no woman could. "Let her go! Now!" He strained so fervently for freedom, a vessel burst in his forehead. His vision blackened completely.

"Get her out of here and keep her out." Reyes stabbed Maddox once more, the fifth blow. "She's making him more crazed than usual."

Had to save her. Had to get to her. The sound of rattling chains blended with his panting as he struggled all the more.

"I'm sorry," Reyes whispered again.

Finally, the sixth blow was delivered.

That's when all of Maddox's strength seeped from him. The spirit quieted, retreating to the back of his consciousness.

Done. It was done.

He lay on the bed, drenched in his own blood, unable to move or see. The pain didn't leave him, nor did the burning. No, they intensified, more a part of him than his own skin. Warm liquid gurgled in his throat.

Lucien-he knew it was Lucien for he recognized the deceptively sweet scent of Death-knelt beside him and clasped his hand.

That meant his demise was close, so torturously close.

But for Maddox, the true torment had yet to begin.

As part of his death-curse, he and Violence would spend the rest of the night burning in the pits of h.e.l.l. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a cough emerged. More and more blood was rushing into his throat, choking him.

"In the morning, you'll have a lot of explaining to do, my friend," Lucien said, adding gently, "Die now. I'll take your soul to h.e.l.l, as required-but this time you might actually want to remain there, eh, rather than deal with the trouble you've brought into our home."

"G-girl," Maddox finally managed to say.

"Don't worry," Lucien said. Whatever questions he had, he kept to himself. "We won't hurt her. She'll be yours to deal with in the morning."

"Untouched." The request was odd, Maddox knew, because none of them had ever been possessive of a woman. Ashlyn, though... He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do with her. He knew what he should do-and what he couldn't. Both mattered little just then. Because, more than anything, he knew that he didn't want to share.

"Untouched," he insisted weakly when Lucien said nothing."Untouched," Lucien agreed at last.

The scent of flowers intensified. A heartbeat of time pa.s.sed, and then Maddox died.

CHAPTER FOUR.

"Who are you and how do you know Maddox?"

"Let me go!" Ashlyn wiggled and squirmed, trying to free herself from her captor's iron grip. Her ankle throbbed, but she didn't care. "They're killing him in there." Oh G.o.d. They were killing him, stabbing him over and over again. There'd been so much blood...such terrible screams. She gagged, remembering.

The voices might still be gone, but she felt more tormented than ever.

"Maddox will be fine," the man told her. Maddox had broken his nose-she'd seen it-but it had snapped back into place almost immediately. There wasn't even a trace of blood on his face. Now he removed one of his arms from her waist, only to caress her temple and gently brush aside a lock of hair. "You'll see."

"No, I won't see," she all but sobbed. "Let me go!"

"Much as I hate to deny you, I have to. You were causing him undue torment."

"I was causing him undue torment? I wasn't the one stabbing him. Now let me go!" Not knowing what else to do, she stilled and gazed up at him. "Please." He had brilliant blue eyes and skin as pale as milk. His hair was a captivating blend of brown and black. He was handsome beyond anyone she'd ever seen before, too perfect to be real.

And all she wanted to do was escape him.

"Relax." He smiled a slow, seductive smile. Practiced, even to her untrained eye. "You have nothing to fear from me, gorgeous.

I'm all about the pleasure."

Fury and fright, sorrow and frustration gave her strength and bravery; she slapped him. He'd just watched a man stab Maddox, and he'd done nothing to stop it. He'd just watched a man stab Maddox, and he dared to flirt with her. She had everything to fear from him.

He lost his grin and frowned down at her. "You hit me." There was surprise in his tone.

She slapped him again. "Let. Me. Go!"

His frown deepened. He rubbed his cheek with one hand and held her still with the other. "Women do not hit me. Women love me."

She raised her palm, ready to deliver another blow.

Sighing, he said, "Fine. Go. Maddox's screams have stopped. I doubt you can upset him now, dead as he surely is." His arm fell away from her.

Ashlyn didn't give him time to change his mind. Suddenly free, she leapt into motion, racing down the hall despite the pain in her ankle. When she entered the room and saw the blood-soaked bed and motionless body, she skidded to an abrupt halt.

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Maddox's eyes were closed; his chest was utterly still.

A sob burst from her, and she covered her mouth with a shaky hand. Red-hot tears filled her eyes. "They killed you." She raced to the bed and cupped Maddox's jaw in her hands, tilting slowly. His eyelids didn't flicker open. Breath didn't seep from his nose. His skin was already cold and pale from loss of blood.

She was too late.

How could someone so strong and vital have been destroyed so callously?

"Who is she?" someone said.

Startled, she turned. Maddox's murderers stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves. How could she have forgotten them? Every few seconds, they glanced in her direction. None of them spoke directly to her. They continued their conversation as if she didn't matter. As if Maddox didn't matter.

"We should take her to the city, but she's seen too much," a harsh voice said. The coldest, most uncaring voice she'd ever heard.

"What was Maddox thinking?"

"All this time, I've lived with him and I never knew what he suffered," an angelic-looking blond with green eyes said quietly. He was dressed entirely in black and wore gloves that stretched to his biceps. "Is it always like this?"

"Not always, no," the one who had wielded the sword said. "He's usually more accepting." His black gaze was hard, his tone tormented. "The woman..."

Murderer! Ashlyn inwardly cried, wanting to attack him. All her life, her ability had revealed more bad than good, forcing her to listen to centuries of hateful accusations and even shrieks of terror. And the one man who'd given her any measure of peace, they'd brutally slain.

Do something, Darrow. She scrubbed her burning eyes with the back of her wrist and straightened to shaky legs. What could she do? They outnumbered her. They were stronger than she was.