So why did she still want his arms around her?

Whatever emotion Maddox saw on her face seemed to answer his unspoken question. His brow puckered and his mouth thinned. In displeasure? But why? Before she could study him further, he turned away and climbed two more steps, saying, "Forget I mentioned it."

"Wait." She leapt forward, winced at the renewed pain in her ankle and grabbed hold of his bicep. A puny move, really, but he stopped.

He stiffened, then slowly turned his head and growled down at her fingers.

She jerked away from him. Not because of his reaction but because she'd felt more of those strange tingles. She'd have liked to believe it was static cling. Something, anything, besides more of that oh, so wrong desire.

"Sorry," she muttered. No touching, she reminded herself. It was better for both of them that way. She couldn't seem to control her body's reaction when they were close. Actual, prolonged contact might reduce her to a drooling puddle. "Maddox?"

In profile his expression appeared blank, completely devoid of emotion. "Yes?"

"Don't be mad, but it is technically later so I'm going to bring us back to Topic One. What are you?" Before he could jump back into motion as if she hadn't spoken, she added, "I answered your questions. Please answer mine."

He didn't. But he did face her again.

Nervous, she ran her tongue over her lips. His gaze followed the movement and his nostrils flared. She didn't mean to, but she started babbling. "Look, there are all kinds of unusual creatures in the world. No one knows that better than me. Did I mention I know firsthand that demons exist? I just want to know what I'm dealing with here." Shut up. Stop talking.

If only he would respond. She'd never had to fill a silence before. Never thought silence could be uncomfortable.

He eased down a step, the action measured and precise as it closed the small distance between them; she eased down a step in response, widening it again."No more questions. I want you bathed, fed and resting within the hour. You're covered in dirt, wavering on your feet because of hunger and there are dark circles under your eyes. Afterward, we can... talk."

Again that hesitation. It disconcerted her, and she gulped. "If I asked you to take me back to the city, what would you say?"

"Unequivocally no."

I thought so. Her shoulders slumped. No matter how much she might want this man-or maybe because of how much she wanted this man-she had to start acting like a rational human being and escape.

What if she was next in line for a stabbing? She wouldn't rise from the dead, that much Ashlyn knew.

Yesterday she would've sold her soul to come here. Who are you kidding? You did sell your soul. She might not have learned to control the voices unless Maddox was with her, but she simply couldn't stay. There were too many uncertainties and too much violence.

But to escape, she'd have to endure the mountain, the cold, the fog and the voices. You can do it. You have to do it.

Maddox arched a brow. "Do I need to lock you up again, Ashlyn?" he asked, as if reading her thoughts.

The threat scared and infuriated her, but she shook her head. No reason to upset him and risk getting herself killed or thrown back in that icy, damp prison, freedom unattainable. Outside of it, at least, she stood a chance. Small though it was.

Silence isn't as sweet as you hoped, is it?

"Do you want to leave because there is someone you need to speak with?" he asked. He failed to disguise his growing anger with that polite inquiry-she saw the flickers of it just beneath the surface of his skin. "Is someone anxious to know where you are?"

"My boss," she said honestly. Maybe, if she found a phone, she could call him. He could then call the police-no. She nixed that thought immediately, reminding herself they might be entranced by the "angels ."

But if she could call McIntosh, the Inst.i.tute could devise a way to rescue her. She could return to her old life and pretend the last two days had never happened-even though the thought of abandoning Maddox created an inexplicable ache in her chest.

Stupid girl!

"Who exactly is your boss?"

As if she would tell him and put an innocent man in danger. Instead, she gathered her courage and said, "Let me go, Maddox.

Please."

Another pause, heavier than before. He stepped closer, placing them nose to nose as he had in the forest. His eyes were bright violet now. "Last night I told you to return to the city. You refused. You even followed me. You cried out for me. Remember?"

The reminder stung. "A moment of insanity," she whispered, looking down at her hands. Her fingers were intertwined, the knuckles white.

"Well, that moment of insanity sealed your fate, woman. You're staying here."

Maddox escorted the reluctant Ashlyn to his bedroom. He'd already cleaned the floor and thrown out the soiled mattress, replacing it with a new one from the array in the room next door. In antic.i.p.ation of her seduction, he'd prepared a bath for her, made up a platter of meats and cheeses, opened a bottle of wine and turned down the clean, sun-kissed sheets. He'd never put so much effort into a coupling, had only heard Paris talk about how quickly women melted when men pampered them like this.

Maddox hadn't realized Ashlyn would spend the entire night in a cell or that she would need all of this care thanks to his friends.

His fingers curled into a tight fist.

Her comfort doesn't matter. He wasn't sure who the thought came from-the demon or himself. He only knew it was a lie.

"Bathe, change and eat," he forced himself to say. "No one will bother you." He paused. "Is there anything else you might require?"

She walked around him in a wide half circle, turning to face him almost immediately, as if she didn't trust him at her back.

"Freedom would be nice."

"Besides that."

Her gaze scanned the room. He didn't like how pale she was, how wobbly and withdrawn. She had not been so drained last night, even in the bitter chill of the forest. "What about wiping out my memory of the past few days?"

"Besides that," he repeated darkly, not liking that she wanted to forget him.

She sighed. "No. There's nothing, then."

He knew he should leave, give her a chance to relax and follow his commands, but he found himself reluctant to do so. He leaned against the side of the door. She remained in the center of the room, arms crossed over her middle, stretching the pink jacket she wore over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His mouth watered.

"Have you done this to many women?" she asked in a conversational tone.

His eyes snapped up and locked with hers, his body tightening. "Done what?" Entranced them? Seduced them? His throat was suddenly blocked by a hard ma.s.s.

Now she snorted. "Locked them away. What else?"

The ma.s.s quickly dissolved. "You are the first," he replied, doing his best to hide his disappointment.

"And what do you have planned for me, special girl that I am?"

"Only time will tell," he answered honestly.

A shadow of concern darkened her expression. "How much time?"

"We shall have to discover the answer together."

Now she flashed him a frown. "You're the most cryptic man I've ever met."

He shrugged. "I have been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," she muttered.

Even the insult did not drive him away. Just a little longer..."I did not know what foods you would like, so I brought you a little of everything we had in the kitchen. I fear there wasn't much to choose from."

"Thank you," she said, then pressed her lips together. A flash of anger descended over her face. "I don't know why I'm being polite to you. Look at what you're doing to me."

"Taking care of you?"

Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced away from him.

"Do you belong to a man, Ashlyn?" he asked, hating the thought.

"I don't understand your question. Am I married? No. Do I have a boyfriend? No. But I do have friends, and people will worry about me," she rushed to add, as if suddenly realizing she'd made herself vulnerable.

Who did she hope to convince? Him? Or herself?

"They'll search for me. They will," she insisted when he failed to respond.

"But they will not find you," he said, confident. The four last night hadn't made it up the hill. Her other friends wouldn't, either.

Her hand fluttered to her throat, drawing his attention to the pulse hammering there. Why did he find himself so entranced by the beat of her heart, compelled to touch the evidence of its movement?

"I didn't mean to scare you," he told her. He wasn't certain which of them was more surprised by his words-Ashlyn or himself.

"I don't understand you," she whispered.

Neither did he understand himself. And the more he stood here talking to her, the less sense he made. He straightened. "Clean yourself up. I will return later." Not giving her a chance to counter, he stepped into the hall, shutting the door without a backward glance.

Better this way. From the moment he had asked her if she belonged to a man, the demon had begun to churn inside of him, eager for a fight. If he stayed, he would touch her. If he touched her, he would take her. But he did not want to risk tangled bodies and heated kisses turning to biting, clawing and a too-rough pounding.

The delicate woman inside his room would not survive.

"d.a.m.n this," he growled. Ashlyn was, beyond any doubt, the sweetest-looking human he'd ever encountered. His mouth still watered for her; his besieged body wept for her. Hurting her was not his desire, no matter that she had admitted to knowing about the demon, as only a Hunter or Bait could. No, he wanted only to pleasure her.

Turning, he locked the door from the outside. Switching the tumblers was something else he'd done in antic.i.p.ation of her seduction. Jumping from the bedroom's terrace would be the only other way out, and he doubted she wanted to fall five stories and land on jagged rocks. Still, he'd glued the window leading to the terrace shut, just in case.

Maddox stalked down the hallway, praying the other warriors had not fled for the day. When he'd awakened in his already- healing body, his first thoughts had been of Ashlyn. He had prepared his room and a meal for her and sought Lucien, finding him in the entertainment room and demanding to know what happened.

"Dungeon," the man had muttered, a strange glint in his eyes.

Furious, Maddox had raced from the room, desperate to a.s.sure himself that she was in the same condition he'd left her in: alive and untouched. He'd thought that at least his friends would have given her food, water and blankets. Wrong. She could have frozen to death. She could have starved. And they wouldn't have known.

Had they expected him to pa.s.sively accept such a thing?Wrong again.

One glance at Ashlyn's dirty, frightened features and he'd wanted to kill someone. He'd barely leashed the urge, telling himself she'd soon be lying in his bed, naked, open to him. And while that had calmed him, it had not calmed the demon-had only managed to incite it further.

Now Violence needed an outlet for its growing rage. For only then would Maddox be able to touch Ashlyn without fear of snapping that fragile little body.

Body... Ashlyn... two words sure to arouse him when used in the same sentence. Luminous as she was, she was every fantasy he'd ever had come to life, and he planned to sate himself inside her, over and over again, taking her in every position imaginable and even some that weren't.

Soon she would want that, too.

Desire had glistened in her eyes when she'd looked at him, and she had constantly reached for him, clearly hoping for some sort of physical contact. He'd even smelled her arousal, a perfume of pa.s.sion, innocence and that delectable honey. He frightened her, though, and that fear overrode her desire.

You should be happy that Bait fears you.

Should, he inwardly scoffed. How he was coming to hate that word.

Was she Bait, though?

When he'd mentioned the four humans who'd followed her, she had appeared genuinely surprised. Horrified by his actions, true, but most women were horrified by war and carnage.

More perplexing still, she had freely admitted to knowledge of the demons. He hadn't tortured her for the information. Why would Bait willingly do such a thing? Why not pretend she thought he was human to lower his defenses?

And so far, she had not tried to lead him from the fortress, nor had she tried to let anyone inside. But then, she hadn't yet had the freedom to do so, he reminded himself. And she wouldn't.

What confused him most of all, however, was that she had tried to save him from his friends. That, he couldn't rationalize away.

Saving someone she'd meant to harm was ridiculous. She could have been harmed herself.

She was a walking contradiction to his black-and-white world.

Tomorrow he would deal with her true reasons for being here. Today, well, today was meant for other things.

His boots clicked against the floor, the sound echoing from the walls. The entertainment room loomed ahead and he quickened his step. The spirit purred in antic.i.p.ation as his bones ached for a fight.

When he stood in the wide expanse of the doorway, he saw popcorn scattered over the floor and ground into the crimson rug.

His trained eye spotted several splotches of dried blood. Obviously Reyes had been here. For once, the TV was switched off.

b.a.l.l.s littered the surface of the pool table, as if someone had stopped a game midway through.

But no sign of the men, not even Lucien. Where had everyone gone?

Maddox stormed through the fortress, bypa.s.sing the luxuries they'd acquired over the years. The hot tub, the sauna, the gym, the makeshift basketball court. None of that would help him.

He reached Paris's room first and burst inside without knocking. The black silk-covered bed was rumpled but empty. The blow-up dolls Torin had purchased were sprawled in every direction, a rapt but useless audience. Whips, chains and a variety of s.e.x toys Maddox couldn't identify lined the walls. They weren't in use, which meant Paris should be inside the fortress. Somewhere.

Shaking his head, Maddox stalked down the hall.

Fight. Fight. Fight.

He tried to ignore the demon's voice as he entered Reyes's room. No Reyes, and no s.e.xual toys. Instead there were weapons.