The Dark-Hunters, page 229
“Where do we find one of those?”
His grip tightened on the wheel as he drove. “We don’t. Acheron destroyed them all to make sure no one could hurt Simi.”
“Well, that was mighty insightful of him, Yorick. What about the other demons who want to play basketball with your skull? Didn’t he ever think he should keep a dagger handy, just in case?”
“It wasn’t worth the risk to him of someone hurting Simi. Besides, Acheron can kill them without a dagger.”
Well, that would be helpful if Acheron were here, but as it stood … “Lucille certainly picked a fine time to leave us, didn’t he? I just wish our only problem was four hungry children and a crop in the field.”
Alexion slowed the car as he turned his head to grimace at her. “You know, your sarcasm isn’t helping any more than your bizarre and scattered references to literature and bad country songs.”
“Not true, it’s helping me maintain a calm façade that I most definitely do not feel.”
“Well, it’s starting to piss me off.”
“Ooo,” she breathed, “you almost scare me when you say that.”
He growled at her as he whipped the car onto the highway that led toward Aberdeen.
“Where have you decided to take us?”
“I’m here to see Kyros so I figure there’s no time like the present.”
She supposed, but there was one important fact he was overlooking. “Kyros is most likely going to freak.”
“Probably. I’m hoping to shock some sense into him.” He glanced over at her. “You were telling me about Stryker before our rude demon interruption. Care to finish that discussion?”
Danger opened her glove box to pull out her pack of travel tissues. She grabbed two, then gently used them to blot the blood that was still around Alexion’s nose.
He gave her an odd frown before he took the tissue himself to wipe his face clean. There was something almost boyishly charming about the way he moved. It amazed her that he’d taken such a beating and sucked it up without a single complaint.
No matter what he said, it had to hurt badly.
Feeling for him, she ran her hand through his hair, brushing it back from his cheek. He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face showed that he was touched by her tenderness.
Awkwardness consumed her. She dropped her hand away and returned to their conversation. “There’s not much to tell,” she said as she closed the glove box. “He showed up claiming to be Acheron’s brother.”
Alexion burst out laughing.
“Don’t laugh,” she said, offended that he was kind of laughing at her since she had briefly bought into the idea of them being related. “He’s got the same black hair and swirling silver eyes like Ash does. Damned if he doesn’t favor Acheron. A lot.”
“No he doesn’t. Trust me.”
“Then why do they have the same eyes?”
“They don’t. Their eyes are very different. Acheron was born with his. Stryker was given his after he scorned his father, Apollo.”
She scowled. “How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “I live with a sfora, an orb that can tell me anything that happens here in the human realm. Not to mention, Simi is a font of information about what happens in Kalosis—the realm where—”
“Stryker is from. He mentioned that to me. So you’re telling me that Ash isn’t his brother?”
“Hell, no. Only in Stryker’s dreams. Trust me.” Alexion grew silent as he considered her words. He slid the tissue into his pocket as he continued to drive them down the dark highway. “So why is Stryker lying to Kyros? For that matter, what the hell is he even doing here? It’s not like him to bother with something like this. He normally takes on Acheron directly.”
She hoped that was rhetorical. “I don’t know. But he has Kyros sold completely on the idea. For a time, he had me too.”
Alexion let out a disgusted breath. “You didn’t know better, but Kyros should.” A muscle worked in his jaw while he kept his gaze focused on the road. “Well, whatever Stryker’s up to, it’s not good. And if he’s the one unleashing and commanding that Charonte back there, we’re in real trouble.”
“You think?”
He shook his head. “Sarcasm aside, you have no idea how much power Stryker wields. You think I’m here to kill you? At least I take no joy in it. Stryker lives to torture people. Last time he was out of his hole, he had a Spathi Daimon possess a Dark-Hunter and they wreaked havoc all over New Orleans.”
“What’s a Spathi?” she asked. That was one term she’d never heard before.
“They’re the ancient warrior class of Daimons who have been around for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. And in that time, they’ve learned to be seriously pissed off. Unlike the younger Daimons you’re used to fighting, these guys don’t run away. They run toward you.”
“Oh, goodie. It just gets better and better. A ticked-off demigod, a demon, and now warrior Daimons out to possess and kill us. Anything else you need to warn me about?”
“Yeah. Can the sarcasm before I decide I don’t need a guide after all.”
* * *
Stryker glared at the Charonte who stood before him. He and Trates had been in the great hall of Kalosis, drinking Apollite blood from their goblets as they celebrated the demise of the Alexion.
At least until the demon had returned with news Stryker didn’t want to hear. Trates had stepped back in expectation of Stryker’s wrath, which was already simmering to a boil as he came to his feet to confront the demon.
“What do you mean, you let him go?”
Caradoc’s pupils spiraled as they narrowed on Stryker. “Watch your tone with me, Daimon,” he said in that strange singsongy accent that his kind held. “You are not fit for me to blow my nose on your weak tissue. I only agreed to this because you said you could liberate me from the goddess. You did not tell me that you were sending me after another of her kind.”
Stryker went cold with those words. “What do you mean, another of her kind?”
“That was no man you sent me to, but rather something else. He spoke my language and he speaks Atlantean. He knew the command the Atlantean gods gave to mine to control us. No human knows those words. Only the gods do.”
He scoffed at the demon. “The Alexion is not a god. Like you, he’s only a servant.”
“He did not speak as a servant,” Caradoc argued. “Nor did he shatter as a human should have. I dealt him death blows and still he fought.”
Stryker snarled at him, then stepped back as the demon moved toward him. Like it or not, he knew that if it came down to a fight, the Charonte would win.
“You didn’t have to obey him. I promise you. He is not a god and is incapable of harming you.”
Caradoc tilted his head as if digesting that. Finally, he shook his head. “I will not go for him again. The risk far outweighs the possible benefit. The goddess would kill me if I harmed one of her family. Even from here, she would hunt me down and assassinate my entire existence. Find another fool for your errand.”
The demon tucked his wings around his body and walked arrogantly from the room.
Stryker cursed. He truly hated those things. They disgusted him even more than the humans did.
One day, he would destroy both races.
“What do we do now?” Trates asked.
“Fetch Xirena.”
Trates laughed nervously at the command. “Xirena? Why? She’s the fiercest of the Charontes. She barely takes direction from Apollymi, never mind one of us. I don’t think anyone can control her.”
Stryker smiled slowly. “I know. That’s why I want her. She won’t be afraid of a mere servant. She’ll come back with his heart for me and she won’t care what Apollymi thinks.”
Chapter 11
Well, the trip to Kyros’s house was a complete wash. He wasn’t home and his Squire didn’t want to let them in until Kyros returned. Danger sighed as they stood on the wraparound porch of Kyros’s blue and white antebellum mansion.
Aberdeen was quiet tonight, with a little breeze whispering around them through the large oaks that flanked the white wooden steps. The old Mississippi town had a very special charm to it that was indicative of a town lost in a time warp. Even the downtown area, where the sidewalks were covered with a metal awning, harkened back several decades.
Danger was particularly fond of the small Catholic church, which had a distinctly old world feel to it. She really loved this town. It was a hidden historical jewel that most people didn’t even know existed.
Alexion looked strangely out of place with his urban-chic of a black turtle neck—which was no longer torn from the dagger toss—his black wool slacks, and white cashmere coat. He honestly looked as if he’d just stepped off a runway in Milan. He was so incredibly masculine … so much so that he was downright edible.
What was it about him? If he could bottle that sexual attraction, he’d be richer than Bill Gates.
You’ve got much more important things to think about than what he’d look like naked.
True, but there was something about him that just made her want to take a bite out of him and it was starting to really irritate her. She wanted herself focused and detached—her normal state of functionality.
“What do we do now?” she asked, trying to distract herself. “Wait here for him?”
“No, it could be hours before he returns. I think we should patrol. If the Daimons are in league with Kyros, then they’ll be hunting and feeding tonight. Where’s the closest population center for them to draw from?”
Danger thought about it for a minute. Tupelo was really spread out, and though there were a few clubs that the Daimons would occasionally stalk, there really wasn’t much Daimon activity in her neck of the woods. Not like there was in other areas of Mississippi, such as the coast, Tunica, and various college towns—which was why there were six Dark-Hunters in the Golden Triangle area of Mississippi where Kyros was stationed.
“There are two colleges they hit a lot. The W, which is the Mississippi University for Women in Columbus, and MSU in Starkville.”
“How far away are they?”
“Not very. Columbus is about half an hour. Starkville another fifteen, twenty minutes from there.”
He nodded as if he were considering the information. “Which school is larger?”
She gave him a teasing look. “I thought you had a mystical orb that could tell you these things?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, letting her know he didn’t find her ribbing humorous.
“Lighten up,” she said with a smile. “Starkville. It has over fifteen thousand students in residence. The Daimons love to party there with the co-eds. Kyros, Squid, and Rafael are assigned to it. Tyrell, Marco, and Ephani are in Columbus.”
Alexion indicated the car with a tilt of his head. “Then that’s probably where we should start. With any luck, Kyros might be there tonight.” He headed down the steps.
Danger followed him, trying not to notice the fact that he had a killer walk. In more ways than one. It was predatorial and deadly. The kind of walk that women would stop to stare at and admire.
When he went to the passenger side of the car to get in, she gave him a puzzled stare. “What, no hocus-pocus this time? You’re not going to get in and start driving away?”
“I don’t know the way.”
She was rather stunned he admitted that. It made him seem almost human. He’d been so larger than life up until now that she assumed he could do just about anything. “You knew how to get here without my help.”
“I cheated. There were signs along the road, and once we were in Aberdeen, it wasn’t hard to find this house since it’s right off the main stretch. I recognized the outside of it from the sfora. But I didn’t see any road signs for Columbus or Starkville.”
Danger laughed. She liked a man who was honest … and relatively normal. “Okay. OnStar is here and you’re covered. Get in.”
She got into the driver’s seat and belted herself in while he joined her. She went to start the car, only to realize that in their haste to leave the Charonte, she’d forgotten her keys. “Um, a little help here, please?”
He frowned, then smiled. “Sure.”
The car started.
She shook her head as she put it in gear. “You know, as handy as that power is, it could also get you arrested.”
The smile he gave her warmed her all the way to her toes. Not to mention she loved the way he smelled … like fresh soap and all man.
“Then I’ll be careful of whose motor I start,” he said in a devilish tone, indicating that he meant the double entendre she inferred.
“I wish,” she whispered under her breath as she backed out of the driveway. She really wished he wasn’t starting hers all the time. It was hard to stay on track when her libido was literally drooling in his presence.
At least in the driver’s seat she had more to focus on than how much she’d like to take him out of those clothes for a test-drive. Jeez, Danger, stop with the bad car analogies and clichés. You’re acting like a slut-puppy, panting after him.
It was true, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. He was compelling.
Clearing her throat, she forced her thoughts back to business. “Is there any magical way you can pinpoint where Kyros is right now?”
“I wish, but no. Not without the sfora.”
“Why didn’t you bring it with you?”
He sighed before he answered. “It’s forbidden. It could be very destructive for something that powerful to fall into the wrong hands.”
“You think?”
Alexion shook his head and forced himself not to laugh. The last thing he wanted was to encourage her. She had to be the most sarcastic human to ever live. But he found her strangely entertaining.
More than that, he found her invigorating. She was such a welcome change from the monotony that made up his regular life. His world was without color or emotion. It was cold and lonely. She, on the other hand, was vibrant and warm. He wished he could have a part of her to take back to Katoteros with him.
But it could never be.
All too soon, he would return to what he’d been.
And she wouldn’t even know that she’d ever met him. He wouldn’t even be a faint memory of a dream. All knowledge of the time they were together would be removed from her mind.
But he would remember, and he would miss her always. Strange how that had never happened before. He thought of the Dark-Hunter men he’d spent time with in the past while he judged the others, but there was no regret in not keeping in touch with them.
He’d only just met Danger and already he knew he’d miss her.
How peculiar.
He watched as she handled the car with total precision. For the first time ever, he found himself completely curious about her.
What did she like? What did she hate?
Normally, he asked no personal questions of anyone. After living so long with Acheron, he knew the futility of it. Not to mention, he didn’t like getting to know someone he’d have to leave and never see again.
Don’t get personal. It would be a mistake of grand proportions.
Still he couldn’t listen. “Do you like being a Dark-Hunter?” he asked her before he could stop himself.
Her answer was automatic. “Most days.”
“And on the others?” Stop it. But that was easier thought than done. He really did want to know what she thought about everything.
She gave him a winsome smile that made his groin jerk in reaction. She was truly lovely and it wasn’t just her looks. There was something infectious about her. It drew him in, making him want something he knew he couldn’t have.
“Like with any life,” she said, “some days are wonderful and some stink. It gets really lonely late at night when there’s really no one around. Sometimes you wonder if you made the right choice. If maybe you reacted in anger too soon and made a pact you shouldn’t have. I don’t know. I wasn’t completely dead long enough to remember it or to know if death would be preferable to this life, so maybe I did choose rightly.”
She glanced at him. “So, Mr. All-Knowledge, you want to clue me in on what the alternative is like? Do you remember being dead?”
He thought it over. “Yeah, I do. When you’re not a Shade, it’s peaceful. I always thought as a mortal man that I’d spend eternity in the Elysian Fields with my family gathered around me.”
“So what made you go with Artemis instead?”
The old pain lanced through him. It was weird that after so many centuries it would still hurt to remember the wife he’d once loved so much and the callous way she’d allowed him to die. But as Acheron so often said, there were some wounds that not even time could heal. Humans learned from their pain. It was a necessary evil for growth.
Yeah, right. He sometimes wondered if Acheron was a sadist or masochist. But he knew better. Acheron understood pain in a way very few did. Like Alexion, he lived with it constantly and if he could he’d banish it forever.
He looked at Danger, and watched as the streetlights illuminated her fragile face. With the exception of Kyros, Brax, and Acheron, no one knew much more about him than his name. He was a vague legend who was held up as the first of their crew to become a Shade.
He was essentially their bogeyman. An example of what happened if the wrong person tried to restore their soul back into their body. But that was the extent of what they’d been told.
They knew nothing about the shame of his trust in his wife, or the fact she’d had a lover. They knew nothing about the fact that he’d been a blind, trusting fool.
Kyros and Brax had held their silence on the matter all these centuries. It was one of the reasons why Alexion had wanted to come back and save Kyros if he could.
Even in death, the man had been his friend.
Alexion took a deep breath before he spoke. “The first time I died, I was murdered,” he said simply. “Like you, betrayed by someone I trusted.”
Her brow wrinkled in sympathetic pain. “Who killed you?”
“My wife’s lover.”
She grimaced. “Ouch.”
