Still no response.

Was she... No. No! Lead b.a.l.l.s settled in his stomach as he flattened his palm over her left breast. At first he felt nothing. No gentle beat, no hard slam. He nearly belted out a curse to the heavens. Then, suddenly, there was a weak patter. A long pause.

Another feeble patter-patter.

She was alive.

His eyes closed briefly, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Ashlyn." He gently shook her. "Come on, beauty. Wake up." What in the name of Zeus was wrong with her? He didn't have any experience with inebriated mortals, but he did not think this right.

Her head lolled to the side; her eyelids remained closed. Her lips were tinted a pretty but unnatural blue. Sweat trickled down his temples. She was not simply inebriated. Had the night in that cell sickened her? No, there would have been signs before now.

Had Torin inadvertently touched her? Surely not. She wasn't coughing or covered in pockmarks. What, then?

"Ashlyn." I can't lose her. Not yet. He hadn't gotten enough of her, hadn't touched her as he'd dreamed, hadn't talked to her.

He blinked in surprise. He wanted to talk with her, he suddenly realized. Not just sate himself inside her body. Not just interrogate her. But talk. Get to know her and find out what made her the woman she was.

All thoughts of killing her vanished; thoughts of saving her took their place, strong, undeniable.

"Ashlyn. Speak to me." He shook her again, helpless, not knowing what else to do. Cold continued to radiate from her, as if she'd been bathed in frost and dried in an arctic wind. He gripped the covers, pulled them up and tunneled them around her, trying to envelop her in warmth. "Ashlyn. Please."

Even as he watched, bruises formed under her eyes. Was this to be his punishment instead? Watching her die slowly and painfully?

The sensation of helplessness intensified. As strong as he was, he couldn't force her to respond. "Ashlyn." This time her name was a hoa.r.s.e entreaty. He shook her yet again, hard enough to rattle her soul. "Ashlyn."

d.a.m.n this. Still nothing.

"Lucien!" he roared, gaze never leaving her. "Aeron!" As far away as he was from them, he doubted they could hear. "Help me!"

Had Ashlyn called for help? Bending down, Maddox meshed his mouth against hers, trying to breathe his strength into her.

Warmth... tingles...

Her blue-tinted lips parted and she moaned. Finally. Another sign of life. He almost howled in relief. "Talk to me, beauty." He smoothed the wet hair from her face, disconcerted to find his hands trembling. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Maddox," she rasped. Still her eyes remained closed."I'm here. Tell me how to help you. Tell me what you need."

"Kill them. Kill the spiders." She spoke so quietly, he struggled to hear.

He brushed his fingers over her cheek as he glanced around the room. "There are no spiders, beauty."

"Please." A crystal tear squeezed past her lid. "Won't stop crawling on me."

"Yes, yes, I'll kill them." Though he didn't understand, he continued to trail his hands over her face, then her neck, then down her arms, stomach and legs. "They're dead now. They're dead. I promise."

That seemed to relax her a little. "Food, wine. Poison?"

He paled, felt the color leach from his face until he was likely as white as Ashlyn. He hadn't thought...hadn't considered... The wine had been made for them, the warriors, not for humans. Since human alcohol did little for them, Paris often mixed in droplets of ambrosia he'd stolen from the heavens and h.o.a.rded all these years. Was the ambrosia like a poison to humans?

I did this to her. Maddox thought, horrified. Me. Not the G.o.ds. "Argh!" He slammed his fist into the metal headboard, felt his knuckles crack further and fill with blood. Unappeased, he punched the headboard again. The bed rattled and Ashlyn moaned in pain.

Stop; don't hurt her. He forced himself to still, to breathe slowly, all the while willing himself to calm for the thousandth time that day. But the urge to brutalize was so dark, so bleak. So intense, it was nearly uncontrollable. Except for that brief time following his fight with Aeron, he'd been on edge all day and this only pushed him further. Any moment he might cross the threshold and cause irreparable harm.

"Tell me how to help you," he repeated.

"D-doctor."

A human healer. Yes, yes. He'd have to take her into the city, for none of the Lords had any medical training. There had never been a need for it. What if this doctor wanted to keep her overnight? He shook his head. That, he couldn't allow. She could tell the Hunters what she'd learned here, what she'd seen-how best to defeat the warriors. What bothered him most, however, was the fear that someone could take her, hurt her, and he would not be able to save her.

He would have to bring a doctor here.

Maddox brushed another soft kiss on her cold, cold lips. Again there was a jolt-this one more muted than the last, as weak as Ashlyn herself. His hands curled into fists. "I'll find you a doctor, beauty, and bring him to the fortress."

She moaned, and her long lashes finally fluttered open. Amber pools of pain stared up at him. "Maddox."

"I won't be long, I swear it."

"Don't...go." She sounded on the verge of tears. "Hurt. Hurt so bad. Stay."

The need to give in and the need to fetch help warred inside him. In the end, he could not deny her. He strode to the door and shouted, "Paris! Aeron! Reyes!" The sound of his voice echoed off the walls. "Lucien! Torin!"

He didn't wait for them, but stalked back to the bed. He intertwined his fingers with Ashlyn's. Hers were limp. "What can I do to ease your pain?"

"Don't let go." She gasped out a shallow breath. Red striations streamed from the corners of her mouth. Was the poison spreading?"I won't. I won't." More than anything, he wanted to draw the pain away from her and into himself. What was a little more suffering to him? Nothing. But she was... what? He didn't have an answer for that.

Groaning, she clutched her stomach, rolled to her side and curled into a ball. Maddox used his free hand to brush her hair behind her still-damp ear. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"Don't know." She watched him, expression gla.s.sy. "Going to... die?"

"No!" He hadn't meant to shout, but the denial had escaped on a burst. "No," he repeated more softly. "This is my fault and I won't let you."

"On purpose?"

"Never."

"Why then?" she breathed. Groaned again.

"Accident," he said. "That wine wasn't meant for your kind."

Whether she heard him or not, she gave no indication. "Going to-" she gagged, covered her mouth with her hand "-vomit."

He grabbed the empty fruit bowl and held it out. She pushed herself to the edge of the bed and emptied her stomach. He clasped her hair back, away from the line of fire.

Was purging herself good or bad?

Ashlyn fell back onto the mattress just as Reyes and Paris raced into the room. Both men looked confused. "What?" Reyes demanded.

"What's wrong?" Paris asked. He was sweating, the lines of strain deeper around his eyes.

Reyes's arms were bleeding again, his hand swollen, and he held two blades, clearly ready for battle. His gaze took in the scene and his confusion intensified. "Need help with the death-blow?"

"No! The wine... the ambrosia Paris puts in it. I left it for her." The confession spilled from him, dripping with guilt and desolation. "Save her."

Paris wobbled, but managed to remain upright. "I don't know how."

"You must! You've spent countless hours with humans!" Maddox barely leashed a deafening roar. "Tell me how to help her."

"I wish I could." He mopped his moist brow with the back of his hand. "I've never shared our wine with others. It's ours."

"Go and ask the other humans if they know what to do. If they don't, tell Lucien to flash into the city and find a doctor to bring here." Death was the only one of the warriors who could move from one place to another with a single thought.

Reyes nodded and spun on his heel.

Paris said, "I'm sorry, Maddox, but I'm at my limit. I need s.e.x. I heard your call from the front door and came here instead of leaving. Shouldn't have. If I don't get into the city soon I'll..."

"I understand."

"Make it up to you later." Paris stumbled out and disappeared around the corner."Maddox." Ashlyn moaned again. Sweat trickled from her temples. Her skin was still laced with blue, but was now so pallid he could see the tiny azure veins that swam underneath. "Tell me... a story. Something... mind off... pain." She closed her eyes, those lashes casting shadows on her cheeks again.

"Relax, beauty. You should not be talking." He raced to the bathroom, emptied and cleaned the bowl and swiped a towel. He wet it down and returned, setting the bowl beside the bed-just in case. Her eyes were still closed. He thought she might have fallen asleep, but she tensed as he bathed her face. He settled behind her, unsure of what to say.

"Why did...friends stab you?"

He didn't discuss his curse, not even with the very men who suffered alongside him. He should not discuss it with Ashlyn.

Anyone but her, in fact, but that didn't stop him. Looking at her, seeing her grimace from pain, he would have done anything to distract her. "They stab me because they must. Like me, they are d.a.m.ned."

"That... explains nothing."

"That explains everything."

Several minutes ticked by in silence. She began squirming, as if preparing for another round with the bowl. He had made her ill; he owed her anything she desired. He opened his mouth and let the tale of his life spill from him. "Here is a story for you. I am immortal, and I've walked the earth since the beginning of time, it seems."

As he spoke, he felt her muscles loosen their vise-grip on her bones. "Immortal," she echoed as if tasting the word. "Knew you were more than human."

"I was never a human. I was created a warrior, meant to guard the king of G.o.ds. For many years, I served him well, helping to keep him in power, protecting him even from his own family. But he did not think me strong enough to guard his most precious possession, a box formed from the bones of the dead G.o.ddess of oppression. No, he commanded a woman to do it. She was known as the greatest female warrior, true, but my pride was stung." Thankfully, Ashlyn remained relaxed. "Thinking to prove a mistake had been made, I helped release the demons inside upon the world. And in punishment, I was bonded to one." He wound his arm around her waist and gently rubbed her stomach, hoping the action would soothe her.

She expelled a slight breath. Of relief? He hoped. "Demon. I suspected."

Yes, she had. He still didn't understand why she admitted it so readily.

"But you're good. Sometimes," she added. "That's why your face changes?"

"Yes." She thought him good?

Filled with pleasure, he continued his story. "I knew the moment I had been breached, for there was a shock inside me, as if parts of me were dying, making room for something else, something stronger than myself." It had been the first time he had ever understood the concept of death-and little had he known just how intimately he would soon come to understand it.

Another delicate sigh escaped her. If she actually understood what he was saying now, he couldn't tell. At least she wasn't crying, wasn't writhing in pain.

"For a while, I lost touch with my own will and the demon had total control of me, forcing me to do-" All manner of evils, he mentally finished, visions of blood and death, smoke and ash and utter desolation filling his mind. He could barely tolerate the knowledge himself and would not taint Ashlyn with it.

To the very second, he recalled how the spirit's hold on him loosened, like a dream-haze clearing, the black smoke in his mind wafting away in a sweetly scented morning breeze, leaving behind only its hated memory.The demon had compelled him to kill Pandora, the guardian it hated above all else. Bloodl.u.s.t at last appeased, it had receded to the back of Maddox's mind, leaving Maddox to deal with the damage.

"G.o.ds, to go back," he said on a sigh. "To walk away from that box."

"Box," Ashlyn said, startling him. "Demons... I've heard something about that." She opened her mouth to say more, then jerked.

Crying out, she reached blindly for the bowl.

Maddox moved faster than he ever had before, leaping from the bed and swiping the bowl in seconds. The moment he held it out, she leaned over and retched. He coc.o.o.ned her against his stomach through the worst of it, cooing to her like he'd never done to another. Giving comfort was new to him, and he prayed he did it correctly. He'd never even comforted his friends. They were all as private about their torment as he was.

When Ashlyn finished, he settled her back on the mattress and once more cleaned her face. Then he turned his gaze to the ceiling. "I am sorry for the way I spoke of you," he whispered to the heavens. "But please do not harm her for my sins."

Peering back down at her, he felt as if an eternity had pa.s.sed since he'd first met her, as if he'd known her forever and she had always been a part of his life. A life that would collapse into nothingness if she were taken from him. How was that possible?

Only an hour before, he had convinced himself that he might be able to slay her. Now...

"Let her live," he found himself adding, "and I'll do anything you want."

Anything? a quiet voice asked, relish in the undertones. Not the voice of Violence, he realized, or any voice he had heard before.

Maddox blinked, stilled. A moment pa.s.sed before his shock settled into mere confusion. "Who's there?"

Startled by his outburst, Ashlyn dragged her red-rimmed eyes to him. "I am," she croaked.

"Pay no attention to me, beauty. Sleep," he said softly.

Who do you think I am, warrior? Can you not guess who has the power to speak to you thus?

Another shocked moment pa.s.sed before the answer took root. Could it be? A...t.i.tan? He had sent pleas to the Greeks for years, and never had he been addressed within seconds. He'd never been addressed at all. And hadn't the t.i.tans called Aeron to the heavens like this, with only a voice?

Hope-and dread-unfurled inside him. If these t.i.tans were benevolent, if they would help, Maddox thought perhaps he would do anything. If they were malicious, however, and made things worse... His hands clenched.

They'd ordered Aeron to kill four innocent women; they could not be good. d.a.m.n this! How should he now interact with this being? Humbly? Or would that be seen as weakness?

Anything? the voice insisted. There was a disembodied laugh. Think carefully before you answer, and know that your woman could very well die.

Maddox glanced at Ashlyn's trembling body, her pain-contorted features, and remembered the way she'd been. The way she'd looked at him with ecstasy and asked him to savor the silence with her. The way she'd stood in front of him and thanked him for food. The way she'd leapt to guard him from his own friends.

Until then-now-no one had needed him. That she did brought a heady rush and deepened his awareness of her. I cannot let her suffer like this, he thought.

He would have to take a chance on the t.i.tans. Whatever they truly wanted from the warriors here, whatever their purpose, and whether or not they were indeed using the Hunters and Ashlyn to punish him for his lack of respect, he would take a chance.

He suppressed a curse, suspecting he was going to suffer as he'd never suffered before. But that didn't change his answer.

"Anything."

Reyes was panting as he raced toward Lucien's room. He had lost a lot of blood these past few days. More so than usual. But then, the need for pain, that terrible, beautiful pain, had ridden him harder than ever lately.