He did not know why and could not stop it. He could no longer control it, really. The last few days, he had stopped trying. What the spirit of Pain wanted, the spirit of Pain received. Now, with every day that pa.s.sed, he lost a little more of his desire to control it. A part of him wanted to embrace it, to finally lose himself. To experience the numb nothingness every flicker of suffering brought.

That was not the way it had always been. For a time, he had learned to live with the demon, to coexist somewhat peacefully.

Now...

He rounded a corner, mottled shards of light seeping through the side window and blurring his vision. He didn't slow. He'd never seen Maddox so torn and frightened. So vulnerable. And over a human, a stranger. Bait. Reyes did not like it, but he counted Maddox as a friend and would help in whatever way he could.

He would help even though he desperately wanted things back to normal, where Maddox raged and died at night, then acted as if he hadn't a care the next morning. Because when Maddox pretended that everything was all right, it was easier for Reyes to pretend, too.

Those thoughts skidded to a halt as Lucien came into view.

He was seated on the floor, knees bent and head resting in his upraised hands. His halo of dark hair was in spikes, as if he'd tangled his fingers through it too many times to count. He appeared dejected, pushed past his limits. Reyes swallowed a hard lump.

If the situation could rock the normally stoic Lucien...

The closer he came, the more the scent of roses thickened the air. Death always smelled like flowers, poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d. "Lucien," he called.

Lucien gave no reaction.

"Lucien."

Again, no response.

Reyes reached him, leaned down and cupped his shoulder, then gave a shake. Nothing. He crouched and waved a hand in front of the warrior's eyes. Nothing. Lucien's gaze was vacant, his mouth immobile. Understanding dawned. Rather than physically leaving the fortress as he usually did, flashing from one location to another in seconds, Lucien had left spiritually.

That was something he rarely did, because it left his body vulnerable to attack. Most likely he'd wanted something, even an unresponsive form, guarding his bedroom door while he was out collecting souls.

I'm on my own, then. Only one thing left to try.

Standing, Reyes gripped the doork.n.o.b to his friend's room, unlocked it and burst inside.

All four women were seated on the bed, heads bent together, whispering, but they lapsed into silence the moment they spotted him. Each of them paled. One of them gasped. The youngest, a pretty little blonde, stood to obviously shaky legs and a.s.sumed a warrior stance meant to block him from her family. She raised her chin, eyes daring him to approach.

His body hardened. His body hardened every time she was near him. Last night, he'd even smelled her. Sweet powder and thunderstorms. He'd spent hours sweating, panting and so aroused he'd considered fighting Maddox for Ashlyn, thinking it was she who had reduced him to such a state.

This woman was pleasure and heaven, a feast to his castigated senses. There were no scars on her, no signs of hard living. Only flawless, sun-kissed skin and bright green eyes. Only a full red mouth made for laughing-and kissing.

If she'd known a single moment of pain, it didn't show. And that drew him. Even though he knew better. His relationships could only ever end badly.

"Don't look at me like that," the little blond angel snapped, hands balling at her sides.

Planning to strike him? A laughable concept, that. She had no way of knowing he would enjoy it. That he would want more and more and more, until he was begging her to strike him again. I would do the world a favor if I let the Hunters chop off my head.

G.o.ds, he hated himself. Hated what he was and what he was forced to do. What he now craved.

"If you've come to rape us, you should know that we'll fight you. We won't be taken easily." She raised her chin another notch and squared her shoulders, Such courage from one so small amazed him, but he could not be sidetracked from his current task.

"Do any of you know how to heal a human?"

She blinked at him, losing a little of her bravado. "Human?"

"A female. Like you."

She blinked again. "Why?"

"Do you?" he insisted, not bothering to answer her. "We haven't much time."

"Why?" she repeated.

Reyes stalked toward her, savagery in every step. To her credit, she did not back down. The closer he came, the more her scent filled his nostrils, heady, alluring. Like the girl herself. Unexpectedly, his anger lessened. "Answer me, and I might let you live another day."

"Danika. Answer him. Please." The oldest of the women reached out a trembling, wrinkled hand and latched onto the girl's arm, trying to tug her back to the bed, away from him.

Danika. The name rolled through his mind. Rolled over his tongue, too, he realized, speaking it aloud before he could stop himself. "Danika." His c.o.c.k jerked in response. "Pretty. I am called Reyes."

The girl resisted the old woman, shaking off her hold. She continued to face Reyes. Her eyebrows and lashes were as pale as the hair on her head. She would be pale between her legs, he suspected.

He couldn't help himself. Despite the need to hurry, he mentally stripped her. Curve after curve greeted him, a banquet to his starved gaze. Large b.r.e.a.s.t.s tipped by raspberry nipples. Soft, flat belly. Soft yet strong thighs.

Reyes no longer allowed himself to bed humans, choosing to take care of himself when the need arose. His pa.s.sions were too dark, too painful for most women to endure. This one, with her softness and her aura of innocence, would be more hurt and disgusted than most. There was no doubt in his mind. Worse, the women he slept with became drunk on his demon, seeking and inflicting pain as intently as he did.

Even if all he wanted from Danika was a kiss, she would not be able to handle it. He might not be able to handle it. The thought of bruising her, of making her bleed, of ruining her, left a hollow ache inside his chest.

"I. will ask one more time. Are any of you healers?" he barked, suddenly eager to escape Danika and her taunting innocence.

She blanched at his harshness, but still did not retreat. "If-if I am a healer, will you swear to spare my mother, sister and grandmother? They haven't done anything wrong. We came to Budapest to get away, to say goodbye to my grandpa. We-"

He held up a hand and she fell silent. Hearing about her life was dangerous; already he wanted to wrap her in his arms and comfort her for a loss that had obviously shaken her. "Yes, I will spare your lives if you save her," he lied.

If the t.i.tans could be believed, Aeron would soon break, becoming crazed for blood and death. He would exist for no other purpose than killing these women. Giving them a little peace of mind during their final days was merciful, Reyes rationalized. Final days. He didn't like the reminder.

Danika's shoulders relaxed slightly, and she cast a determined glance at her family. Each woman was shaking her head no.

Danika nodded.

Reyes frowned, not understanding the byplay between them. Did she, too, lie? Finally, Danika turned back to him. He forgot his confusion as their gazes locked. Or he simply didn't care about the answer. Her angelic beauty was more enthralling than Pandora's box, promising absolution it couldn't possibly deliver. And yet, a part of him wished that it could. Just for a moment.

She closed her eyes, released a long, heavy breath and said, "Yes. I'm a healer."

"Come with me, then." He didn't take Danika's hand, too afraid of what would happen if he touched her. Afraid of a mere human? Coward. No, smart. If he did not know what she felt like, he could not miss the sensation when she was dead.

What if Lucien thought of a way to save her? What if- "Come." Refusing to waste any more time, Reyes pivoted and strode from the room, forcing Danika to follow. He locked the other women inside, then sprang into motion, trying to maintain a healthy distance between himself and the angel.

OhmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d, Danika Ford chanted in her mind. Her heart was trying to fight its way out of her chest, banging on her ribs as if they were a door with frozen hinges. Why did I do this? I'm not a healer.

She'd taken an anatomy cla.s.s in college, yeah. She'd taken a CPR cla.s.s in case Grandpa had a heart attack in front of her, sure.

But she wasn't a nurse or a doctor. She was just a struggling artist who'd thought a vacation would help heal the grief and sorrow brought on by her grandfather's death.

What was she going to do if this hard, steely-eyed soldier-clearly that's what he was, a soldier-wanted her to perform surgery of some sort? She wouldn't do it, of course. She couldn't put someone's life in jeopardy like that. But anything else...maybe.

Probably. She had to save her family. It was their lives in jeopardy now.

OhmyG.o.d. Trying to find a measure of tranquility, she studied her captor's back as he paced in front of her. He had tanned skin and black-as-midnight eyes. He was tall with the widest shoulders she'd ever beheld. She'd seen him once before, and he hadn't smiled then, either. There'd been pain in his eyes, then and now. There'd been fresh cuts on his arms, then and now.

OhmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d. She didn't even think about running away from him. He'd only catch her, and then he'd be p.i.s.sed. Maybe attack. And that was scarier than braving a haunted house at Halloween with chainsaws, coffins and all. Alone.

OhmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d. She wanted to talk to him, to ask him what would be expected of her, but she couldn't find her voice. There was a baseball-sized lump in her throat, preventing speech. She didn't know why she'd been kidnapped, nearly didn't care anymore. She just wanted to leave this drafty, creepy castle with its freaky, overly muscled owners and fly home to the safety of her apartment in New Mexico.

Suddenly stabbed by a sense of desolation and homesickness, she almost sobbed. Would this soldier keep his word if she helped? She doubted it, but hope was a silly thing. She'd do her best, no matter what, and she'd pray for a miracle.

Too bad she couldn't convince herself a miracle would happen. You'll probably get knifed by the big brute if anything goes wrong.

OhmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d. If she failed, there was no question in her mind that she and her family would die-very soon.

CHAPTER NINE.

When Reyes strode into Maddox's bedroom with the angelic-looking blonde Aeron was supposed to kill in tow, Maddox almost wept with relief. Ashlyn had vomited over and over again, until there was nothing left in her stomach. And then she had vomited some more.

Afterward she'd fallen back onto the mattress and stopped breathing. Desperate, Maddox had hailed the t.i.tan again, but the G.o.d had done nothing whatsoever. Once Maddox had agreed to repay him for any aid rendered, the all-powerful ent.i.ty had abandoned him.

The t.i.tan had raised his hopes and then dashed them completely. Maddox had wondered at the being's intentions, and now he knew: utter cruelty, s.a.d.i.s.tic amus.e.m.e.nt.

Reyes stepped out of the way and the little blonde rushed forward.

"Help her," Maddox commanded.

"OhmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d, ohmyG.o.d," she chanted. She paled as she knelt at the side of the bed. She was trembling, but gave Maddox an accusing glare. "What did you do to her?"

Guilt intensifying, Maddox tightened his hold on the fragile, sick, dying Ashlyn. He barely knew the woman, but he wanted her to live more than he wanted to avoid h.e.l.l's hottest flames. It was too sudden to feel this strongly, yes.

It was completely out of character, yes. That, too. He could ponder his foolishness later.

"She's not breathing," he rasped. "Make her breathe."

The blonde's attention returned to Ashlyn. "She needs a hospital. Someone call 911. Now! Wait, c.r.a.p. Do you have emergency service here? Do you even have phones? If so, we need to call immediately!"

"No time," Maddox snapped. "You must do something."

"Just call. She's-"

"Do something or die!" he roared.

"Oh G.o.d." Absolute panic filled her eyes. "I need-I need to do CPR. Yes, that's right. CPR. I can do it. I can," she said, more Previous Top Nextto herself than anyone else. She jackknifed to a stand and leaned down, hovering directly over Ashlyn's lifeless face. "Lay her flat and then get out of my way."

Maddox did not even think of protesting. He rolled Ashlyn to her back and hopped onto the floor, crouching beside the bed. He refused to release her hand, however, retaining a tight clasp. The girl stood there for a moment, unmoving, panic still lighting her eyes.

"Danika," Reyes said, a warning.

The girl-Danika-swallowed and flicked Reyes a nervous glance. The warrior's dark eyebrows winged into his hair as he stared at her and asked, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Of-of course." Rosy color seeped into her cheeks as she once again returned her attention to Ashlyn. Flattening her palms just below Ashlyn's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she pushed once, twice, and said shakily, "Don't worry. I've practiced. A dummy is the same as a human, a dummy is the same as a human." Then she meshed her parted lips over Ashlyn's.

For the next several minutes, surely an eternity that was worse than the hours Maddox spent burning each night, she alternated between pumping on Ashlyn's chest and blowing air into her mouth. He'd never felt so helpless. Time became an enemy more hated than ever.

Reyes waited by the door, still and silent. His arms were crossed over his chest. He wasn't watching Ashlyn, but Danika, his expression shuttered. Maddox rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, his own breathing so labored he could hear every exhalation echoing in his mind.

Finally, blessedly, Ashlyn coughed and sputtered. Her entire body spasmed as she opened her mouth and struggled to suck life into her lungs. In-she gasped, choked. Out-she gagged.

Maddox gathered her to his chest in the next instant. She struggled against him. "Hold still, beauty. Hold still."

Gradually her movements ceased. "Maddox," she rasped, and it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

"I'm here." Her skin was still cold, still clammy. "I've got you."

Danika remained at the side of the bed, wringing her hands. White teeth bit down on her bottom lip, drawing a bead of blood.

"She needs a hospital. Doctors, medicine."

"The journey from fortress to city would be too much for her."

"Wh-what's wrong with her? A virus? Oh G.o.d! I put my mouth on hers."

"Wine," Reyes answered. "She is sick from our wine."

Her green eyes widened and she flicked Ashlyn a glance. "All this from a hangover? You should have told me. She needs water and coffee to dilute the alcohol." She paused. "For what it's worth, I hope-think she'll live, but you really should take her to a hospital and get her on an IV. She's probably dehydrated." Even as she spoke, shades of color trickled back into Ashlyn's cheeks.

"Hurt," Ashlyn whispered. Her hands clutched at Maddox's back, drawing him closer. Perhaps she felt as he did, that they could not be close enough. He would have burrowed under her skin if possible.

"What else can you do for her?" Maddox demanded of Danika. "She is still in pain."

"I-I-" Danika pursed her mouth and glanced away from him, her gaze locking on Reyes. The warrior looked suspicious. Her eyes widened, and she snapped her fingers again. "Tylenol! Motrin. Something like that. That always helped my hangovers." Maddox glanced to Reyes. "I've seen a commercial for such things, I think, but don't know where to obtain them. Do you?"

"No. There's never been a reason to pay attention to human medicines." Reyes didn't remove his eyes from the blonde; his voice sounded scratchy for some reason.

Paris would have known, but Paris was not here. "Where can we get this Tylenol?" Maddox asked the girl, urgency consuming him.

Danika's brows puckered in an imitation of Reyes as she glanced between the two men. There was an odd gleam in her lovely green eyes, as if he and Reyes had been speaking a foreign language and she could not grasp the specifics. "I have some in my purse," she finally said.

When she failed to elaborate, he gritted out, "Go fetch your purse, then."