The Dark-Hunters, page 388
“Well, you don’t think I’d eat and leave you to starve, do you?” The sad thing was, he most likely did.
She picked the menu up and held it toward him. “Order something or I’ll order for you.”
“Do you know what happened to the last person who took that tone with me?”
“Let me guess … Disembowelment. Probably painful. Definitely slow.” She wagged her brows at him. “Lucky for me you can’t kill me so long as I have the bracelet on.” She gave him a smug smile. “I’m having the shrimp cocktail and blackened chicken Alfredo. What about you?”
For the first time, she saw a humble look about him as he pulled the menu toward him like a sullen child.
“Kindness makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?”
He didn’t respond as his gaze skimmed the menu.
She let out a tired breath before she exchanged a frustrated look with Jesse. She couldn’t believe she had an easier time talking to ghosts than she did talking to a flesh-and-blood … something seated in front of her.
What had they done to him to make him so closed off from everyone?
Xypher wasn’t sure what to order. Everything looked good and his stomach was burning. Not to mention he felt extremely awkward sitting here … like a civilized human.
No one had treated him like this. Ever.
He was a Phobatory Skotos. He’d spent his life making everyone around him tremble in fear as he gave them nightmares. Even the gods. He was evil incarnate. Even other Phobatory Skoti feared him.
And this woman had dared to order him around … She was actually quite pretty and more tempting than any woman should be while he had a goal so important. Until now, he hadn’t thought about how long he’d been without a woman. But her gentle hazel eyes set him on fire.
“Are you having trouble deciding?”
He blinked at her question. “How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Talk to me like I’m normal.”
She frowned at him. “Well, you don’t make it exactly easy. But I remember a time when I was angry at the world, too. All I wanted was to lash out and make everyone around me as miserable and angry as I was. That … need burned like a fire inside and obliterated everything else. Then one day I realized that the only one I was really hurting was myself. I might piss off other people, but within a few hours they forgot me. I was the only one who lived in perpetual hell. So I made the decision to let the anger go and move on.”
How easy she made it sound. But it wasn’t that easy to just let go. “Yes, but you had a future to look forward to.”
She shook her head. “It didn’t feel like that at the time. You have to remember that I saw my brother killed when he was only seven years old.” She clenched her teeth as the familiar pain lacerated her. “He thought he had a future, too, and in one blink of an eye it was gone. So were my mother and my father…”
Her pain reached out to him; it was something he could relate to. But what surprised him was the little twinge inside him, a part that actually … no, it wasn’t caring. He wasn’t capable of that. It was …
He couldn’t place it.
“What happened?” he asked her.
She held her hand up. “I know I brought it up, but I really can’t talk about this right now, okay? Just because it was a long time ago doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt still. There are some pains that time doesn’t numb.”
“Then you understand me.”
Simone froze at that simple statement from him as she realized she really did. No matter how many years it’d been, the agony of their death was still raw and fresh. “Yeah. I guess I do. And if yours is even a pittance of mine, then I’m really sorry.”
Xypher looked away as those words touched a part of him that hadn’t been touched in centuries. He didn’t even know why. It was like they had a connection through their pain.
“Do you like seafood?”
How did she do that? Such a simple question and yet it touched him. It made him feel … he couldn’t describe it. “I don’t remember. I haven’t been able to really taste food in centuries.”
She laid her menu down on the table. “What have you been eating while you’re here?”
“Whatever I could find.”
Simone’s heart clenched at his words. “We’ll get you the gyro platter and oyster plate. Between the two of them, you should find something tasty.”
Xypher didn’t know what to say. Usually he was violent, wanting to lash out and hurt anyone around him, but sitting here like this …
He was calm and calm was something he hadn’t tasted in so long he’d forgotten how it felt.
Glancing away, he was tormented by old memories. Even before his emotions had been stripped, he’d been angry and bitter. Lashing out at everyone around him. He’d been raised among Sumerian demons, not humans or the gods on Olympus.
His mother’s people had been harsh and unforgiving. And in the beginning, he’d welcomed Zeus’ curse of feeling nothing at all.
Until Satara. She’d shown him other things. Laughter. Passion.
For a time, he’d even deluded himself that he loved her.
In retrospect, it was enough to make him laugh. What did the son of a demon and the god of nightmares know about love? His own parents had been incapable of it. Love wasn’t in his genetic makeup.
But vengeance …
That was something he could sink his claws into.
A waitress came over, eyeing him as if she could sense his malevolent thoughts. She quickly turned her attention to Simone who ordered for him.
Xypher listened to the melodic accent that made Simone’s voice seem softer and more gentle than any he’d ever heard before. Her dark brown hair hung in ringlets around her face while her hazel eyes reflected intelligence, curiosity, and an innate zest for life.
She wasn’t as skinny as the waitress who was leaving them. Rather she was robust. Healthy. And for the first time in centuries, he felt his body stirring with lust.
A mischievous glint sparkled before she took a sip of water, then spoke to him. “You’re being quiet, which is making me nervous.”
“How so?”
She looked at Jesse before she answered. “There’s an old saying that the tiger lies low not out of fear but for better aim. It reminds me of you.”
“It should.”
She sighed as she cupped her glass in her hands. “You really like to scare people, don’t you?”
“I was bred for it.”
Jesse laughed. “Can I sign up for lessons? I feel really shafted that I didn’t get to come back as a poltergeist.” He held his hands up at Simone. “Ooo, I’m coming for you.”
Simone laughed.
Jesse let out a sound of disgust. “See. Laughter. I want, just once, to induce actual fear.”
Xypher cut a look to the ghost to remind him that he could reach out and hurt him. Jesse immediately shrank back.
Simone leaned her head against her hand as she watched him. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”
“Do what?”
“Grimace and growl at everyone around you. Take a breath and relax.”
“Relax?” Xypher was incredulous at her words. “You do know they’re going to be coming for us? You let your guard down—you relax—you die. Trust me. I have firsthand experience with that.”
“Yeah, you said you were dead. What happened?”
Xypher fell silent as her innocent question dragged him back to the fool he’d once been. “I was betrayed by the only person I made the mistake of trusting.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’d rather have died than lived an eternity with a lie.”
* * *
“Well?” Satara asked as Kaiaphas materialized in front of her.
“He’ll be dead soon.”
She shrieked before she started pacing the small space that made up Stryker’s office. “That’s not good enough.”
“Then I suggest you kill him.”
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me.” She snatched up the bottle on Stryker’s desk that held Kaiaphas’s soul inside. She lightly tapped the side of it against the desk, not hard enough to shatter it, but hard enough to sound like it might. “In one flick of my wrist, I could end your existence.”
She saw the shimmer of fear in his eyes, but to his credit, he didn’t show any other concern over her threat. “Xypher was protected by a son of Aphrodite wielding the sword of Cronus. There was no way to defeat him and finish off Xypher.”
Satara let out a disgusted breath. Relying on someone else was what had gotten her into this mess. Her only saving grace was the deamarkonian Stryker had given her. With that, Xypher could be found with little effort.
That was if the worthless demon before her was capable of it. “I want his head delivered to me, Kaiaphas. And if not his, I will take yours…”
He bowed low before her. “Your will be done, my mistress. My brother’s head will be yours.”
FOUR
Xypher had to struggle not to launch himself at the waitress as she brought food and snatch it out of her hands. The scent of it reached deep inside and literally made him ache for a taste of it. All he wanted was to tear into it like a rabid animal and it took all the restraint he had not to. But what amazed him more than the fact that he was able to stop himself was the reason why it was so important to him to behave.
He wasn’t about to let anyone humiliate him again.
“You’re nothing but a mongrel. Uncouth. Uncivilized. Disgusting. Who could ever love a beast?” Satara’s words rang loud and clear in his head.
Simone sat across from him, eating daintily, primly. It was obvious manners had been bred into her and for some reason he couldn’t even fathom, he didn’t want her to judge him like the rest of the world had and find him an animal, too. Never once had he cared what anyone else thought of him.
Until now.
As if she could hear those thoughts, she reached across the table and placed one gentle hand on his arm, over the words he’d branded there. “I know you’re starving, Xypher. You don’t have to worry about your manners with me. Dig in.”
Nothing had ever touched him so profoundly. Just as no one had ever looked more beautiful to him. The light in her hair, the way her hazel eyes flashed with an inner spirit that was intangible and electrifying. It baffled him.
He lashed out at her and she took it, just like he did in Tartarus. No matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried to break him, he stood strong against their best attacks. Just like her. Only her strength was innately good. She never sought to hurt anyone.
Not even him.
She was gentleness personified.
And because of that, he was more determined than ever not to give in to that rabid side of himself.
“I’m all right,” he muttered, picking up his silverware.
Simone sat in silence while she watched Xypher’s hand visibly shaking as he ate his lamb. There was no mistaking his hunger or his need to satiate it. She wasn’t sure why he was fighting it when it was so obvious he wanted to tear into his food. In his shoes, she’d be ripping into it and shoving handfuls into her face.
Not him. It was as if he wanted to prove something. Like he needed to eat with good manners for some reason she couldn’t even begin to guess at.
Shaking her head, she tried to focus on her own meal. Something that wasn’t easy given the leashed power of him. He was compelling. The strength, the power. All she wanted to do was reach out and touch those perfect lips.
He was like watching a beautiful animal that was stalking its prey.
But the best part was when he tried to take a bite out of the oyster shell. The boyish confusion on his face was utterly charming.
Stifling a laugh, she got up and walked to his side of the table. “You don’t bite into the oyster shell.”
He scowled at her. “How do you eat it, then?”
“Let me show you.” She took the oyster from his hand and picked up the small fork from beside his plate. “First you detach the meat and then you tip the shell to your lips and let it slide down, into your mouth. Then you swallow, but don’t chew it.”
“Why not?”
She stared at the oyster meat that appeared harmless enough, but she swore she could still taste the one time she’d mistakenly bitten into one. Nasty didn’t come close to describing that taste. “Well, it’s gritty and kind of gross. But if you really want to you can.”
Xypher froze as he watched her put a dab of Tabasco sauce on the meat. The scent of her filled his head and reminded him that it’d been centuries since he last touched a woman …
Strange how in his rage and quest for vengeance, he hadn’t even thought of that. Hadn’t noticed any of the women he’d passed on the streets while searching for Daimons to take him into Kalosis.
Now that long-forgotten ache burned through him. He wanted to take her hand in his so that he could lick the pads of her fingers to taste the salt of her skin. To bury his face in the crook of her neck so that he could inhale her scent until it clung to his skin.
He didn’t know why, but just the thought of her touching him in even the most careless way had him harder than he’d ever been before. And he longed to reach up and brush his hand through those chaotic curls that had defied her best efforts to tame them. He wondered what they’d feel like brushing against his chest while she made love to him. Were they as soft as they appeared?
Were her lips?
Would she welcome him into her body?
Xypher forced himself to look away from her and to squelch those thoughts. It wasn’t his fate to have a woman like her touch him in that way. He was an animal and he knew it. He’d been left alone too long, had been cast out to find his own way. Tenderness was for humans. It wasn’t for a renegade Skotos who was going to be taken back to hell in a few weeks.
Don’t go soft. Don’t let down your guard.
Sooner or later, he’d be back in Tartarus at the mercy of Hades. It’d taken centuries to harden himself so that he didn’t feel the steel-barbed lashes so deeply when they beat him. Centuries of learning how to not fall for the cruel mind games that Hades played.
Comfort on this plane would only weaken him when he returned.
It would make hell even more biting. That was something he couldn’t allow. It was bad enough. To soften his existence here …
No wonder Hades had agreed to let him loose for a month. The god of the Underworld had known exactly how much worse Xypher’s punishment would be after he’d tasted freedom.
Bastard.
Curling his lip, he snatched the oyster from her hand. “I’m not an infant. I can feed myself.”
Simone cocked her head irritably at his quick reversal. There for a moment, she’d almost thought that he was learning to be … well, nice.
She must have been hallucinating.
“Fine,” she said, flinging out her hands. “Whatever.”
Angered over his gruffness, she went back to her seat and finished her food in silence.
What was his deal? She’d never before met anyone so surly that they couldn’t accept even a minimal amount of kindness. He reminded her of that awful Scott Murphy …
Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the boy who’d been in her children’s home with her when she was eleven. Hostile and feral, he’d barely been human.
At nine years old, he’d been taken away from his parents and then put into the revolving door of foster homes because no one could do anything with him. Finally, children’s services had started sending him to various facilities that were equally quick to toss him out.
No one at the home where she’d stayed, including the staff, could stand him. He was always picking fights and mocking everyone, even Simone who’d tried to be his friend. He’d laughed at her, then bit her so hard, she’d needed stitches—she still had the scar on her left forearm. Because of that and other such tantrums and attacks, he’d spent all of his time being punished until he’d mysteriously vanished in the middle of the night.
His body had been found a few days later in the basement of the gym, still dressed in his pajamas. Apparently he’d gone there, alone, and slit his own wrists.
He’d only been eleven years old.
Simone had been sad enough over the horrible occurrence, but when she’d overheard two of the teachers talking later that day, that sadness had turned to all-out grief for the child who shouldn’t have been reduced to ending his own life.
“It’s a shame that boy ended up like that, but I guess given the trauma of his childhood, he didn’t have any hope.”
“Trauma?”
“Didn’t you know? He was taken away from his parents because his mother was a crack addict and his father a drug dealer. Scott had his skull shattered one afternoon when he interrupted Daddy doing a deal because the poor thing was starving and dared to ask for a sandwich. That’s when the state took him away. His dad’s been trying to regain custody ever since. We’d just told Scott the day he vanished that his father was coming to take him home the next morning. Guess the poor kid would rather be dead than go back to whatever hell was waiting for him…”
In that one moment, Simone had learned a valuable life lesson. Judge no one until you know their circumstances. No matter how awful they seemed, sometimes there was a valid reason for their behavior. Granted, some people were just mean and corrupt, but not always.
Many people were just in pain, and by acting out, they were only trying to protect themselves from being hurt more.
It was what she tried to teach her students. Anytime you entered a crime scene, the worst thing you could do for the decedent was to pass judgment on them. It clouded your professionalism and jaded your work. A medical examiner’s job was to report without prejudice.
Personal views had no place in a morgue.
It was one thing to tell someone how to live their life and what decisions to make. It was another to be the person who had to do it and live with the consequences. Just because you would do something differently, it didn’t mean they would. People rose and fell by their own life choices and experiences. The mistakes were theirs to make.
