An extremely tattooed man frowned over at her. He had military-cropped brown hair, two eyebrow rings and soft, full lips. He also had more muscles than a world champion power-lifter. He would have been handsome-in a serial-killer kind of way-if not for those tattoos.

Even his cheeks were painted with violent images of war and weapons.

His eyes were the same shade of violet as Maddox's, but they lacked any hint of warmth or emotion. Blood dripped down his nose as he rubbed his chin with two fingers. "We have to do something with the girl." That cold, emotionless voice again. "I don't like her being here."

"Even so, Aeron, we aren't to touch her." This speaker had inky hair that was like a dark halo around his head and different- colored eyes-one brown, one blue. His face was a ma.s.s of scars. At first glance, he was hideous. At second, there was an almost hypnotic quality to him, enhanced by the scent of roses drifting from him. "Tomorrow morning she'll be in the same condition she is now. Breathing and clothed."

"Just like Maddox, taking away our fun."

The wry voice came from behind her and she yelped, spinning. The beautiful pale-skinned man stood in the doorway. He watched her, hunger in his eyes, as if he were picturing her naked and liked what he saw.A tremor started at the top of her head and worked its way down, all the way to her toes. b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, every one of them! Her feral gaze scanned the room and narrowed on the b.l.o.o.d.y sword that had been carelessly tossed onto the floor. The very sword that had sliced through Maddox as if he were nothing more than a thin layer of silk.

"I want to know who she is," the cold, tattooed one-Aeron-said. "And I want to know why Maddox brought her here. He knows the rules."

"She must have been one of the humans on the hill," the angel said, "but that still doesn't explain why he brought her into our midst."

She would have laughed if she hadn't felt on the verge of a total breakdown. I should have listened to McIntosh. Demons did live here.

"Well?" Aeron prompted. "What do we do with her?"

Each of the men faced her again, and Ashlyn dove for the blade. Her fingers curled around the hilt and she straightened, pointing the tip in their direction. The sword was heavier than she'd thought and her arms instantly began to shake under its weight, but she held firm.

Her companions merely regarded her with curiosity. Their lack of fear didn't faze her. Though she'd only known Maddox a short while, there was something wild inside her that mourned his loss and demanded she avenge his death.

Maddox. His name whispered through her mind. He was gone. Forever. Her stomach clenched painfully. "I should kill you, all of you. He was innocent."

"Innocent?" someone scoffed.

"She wants to kill us. Hunters have come for us, then," Aeron said with disgust.

"A Hunter would not call Maddox innocent. Even in jest."

"Bait would not be above it. Remember, every word out of their mouths was a lie, though their faces were always guileless."

"I watched Maddox slay four men on my monitor, which he wouldn't have done if they had been innocent. And I doubt a coincidence brought a guiltless female to the forest at the exact same time."

"Think she has any skill with a sword?"

Snort. "Of course not. Look how she's holding it."

"Brave little thing, though."

Ashlyn gaped at them, hardly able to keep up with the conversation. "Does no one care that a man was murdered here? That you were the ones who murdered him?"

The black-clothed angel laughed, actually laughed, but there was anguish in his green eyes. "Believe me. Maddox will thank us in the morning."

"If he doesn't kill us for being here in the first place," someone retorted.

To her astonishment, several of the men chuckled. All shook their heads in hearty agreement. Only the one who had rendered the fatal wounds remained silent. He continued to stare at Maddox's body, his expression wracked with agony and guilt. Good.

She wanted him to suffer for what he'd done.The sensual one, the one who thought no woman could resist him, leveled his gaze on her, and she was treated to another slow, seductive smile. "Put the sword away, sweet, before you hurt yourself."

She held tight, determined. "Come and take it from me, you... you... animal!" The words flew from her mouth, a challenge she couldn't hold back. "I may not have any skill with swords, but if you come near me I will hurt you."

There was a sigh. A laugh. A muttered, "What kind of female can resist Paris?"

"I say we lock her in the dungeon." This from the one named Aeron. "No telling what she'll do otherwise."

"Agreed," the others echoed.

Edging toward the door, Ashlyn shook her head and gripped the sword more tightly. "I'm leaving. Do you hear me? I'm leaving!

And mark my words, justice will be served. Every single one of you will be arrested and executed."

"Maddox can decide what to do with her in the morning," the one with the mismatched eyes said calmly, ignoring her.

As if Maddox could decide anything now.

Her chin trembled. And then her eyes widened as each of his killers stalked forward, determination in their every step.

Don't hurt me. Please, don't hurt me.

A pause. A snap.

An anguished cry.

My arm! Huge, gut-wrenching sobs. You broke my f.u.c.king arm! Ashlyn's own arm throbbed in sympathy. I didn't... do anything... wrong.

The voices had returned in full force.

She huddled on the floor of a dark, dank cell, shivering and scared. "I just wanted to find someone who could help me," she whispered. Instead, she'd fallen straight into a Grimm's folk tale, but with no happy ending in sight.

I will. I will. Just... need... a... moment.

The one-sided conversation had been rolling through her mind for an eternity, it seemed, now a discordant concerto of anger, desperation and pain. Above it, however, a single voice rose: Maddox's. Not a voice of the past, but a memory. A burst of screams.

"You left the Inst.i.tute for this." She shook her head in grief and disgust, wanting to convince herself this day had been nothing more than a nightmare. That a man had not been slain right in front of her. Stabbed. Repeatedly. But she knew the truth. His shouts... G.o.d, his shouts. His rage at being chained and beaten, his torment... worse than anything she'd ever heard from another human being.

Tears rained down her face. She couldn't get his image out of her head-not his image before he died and not his image after.

Harshly handsome face almost savage in its intensity. Facial bones blurred and sunken. Violet eyes bright. Violet eyes closed.

Tall, tanned and muscled body. Broken, b.l.o.o.d.y, lifeless body.

She whimpered.

After shoving her into this cell, Maddox's killers had promised to bring her blankets and food. The vow had been delivered ages ago, but no one had returned. She was glad. She didn't want to see them again. Didn't want to hear them, didn't want to talk to them. She'd rather endure the cold and the hunger.

Shivering, she tugged her jacket tight at the collar. She was thankful she still had it, that the men, those barbaric monsters, hadn't taken it from her during the seemingly endless trek from topside to underground.

Just then, something scampered across her fingertips, squeaking happily, and she jerked. Oh G.o.d, Oh G.o.d, Oh G.o.d. She scooted into the nearest corner. Mouse. A hairy little rodent that would eat anything, and where there was one...

Stomach churning, she swept her gaze through the cell. Not that it did any good. The room was too dark, and she wouldn't have been able to see a hand-or a monster-if it were right in front of her face.

"Stay still." Deep breath in. "Stay calm." Deep breath out.

I'll tell you anything you want to know, but please don't hurt me again, Broken Arm said, sobbing his way back into her thoughts. I didn't mean to sneak inside. There was a long pause. Okay, yes, yes. I did. I meant to, but I 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 h.e.l.l 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 h.e.l.l 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 G.o.ds, 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 t.i.tans 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. t.i.tillating 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 b.u.t.ton. "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 embarra.s.sing. You know that, right?"

"Aeron, you cannot make an announcement like that and simply change the subject. You mentioned the...t.i.tans?" 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 t.i.tans 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 t.i.tans 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 G.o.ds who had cursed them. But...

"You are sure?" Lucien asked him.

"Very." Until tonight, all Aeron had known about the t.i.tans was that they'd ruled Mount Olympus during the Golden Age, a time of "peace" and "harmony"-two words spouted by the Hunters who'd risen in Greece all those years ago. "They placed me in some sort of tribunal chamber, their thrones circling me. Physically, they are smaller than the Greeks. Their power, however, was unmistakable. I could almost see it, like a living ent.i.ty. And on their faces, I saw only uncompromising determination and dislike."

Several tense minutes pa.s.sed.

"Dislike aside, is there a chance the t.i.tans can release us from the demons without killing us?" Reyes voiced the question they undoubtedly all were thinking.