Stygian

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “I have made so many mistakes,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

  Some she regretted.

  Some she did not. But she did feel terrible for the boy she’d helped to raise. No one deserved the pain Urian felt tonight. To feel so victimized and helpless.

  It was a misery that lived inside her heart as a constant companion. No one should feel powerless in their own life.

  Ever.

  Stryker’s sons said a prayer, then lit the funeral fire. And as the pyre burned, Urian looked up and somehow, he met Apollymi’s gaze through the mists of the waters where she gazed. How he knew where her vantage point was …

  It sent another chill over her. His powers were astounding.

  But then, he was the Stygian heir.

  The fire lit the sky and burned bright as Urian used his powers to conjure the identities of the men who’d killed his mother and her servants. Pyromancy wasn’t his favorite choice, but the flames licking his mother’s body were craving vengeance as much as he was.

  Together, they gave him everything he needed to vindicate them both.

  The humans had come to her farm for Daimons because of whispered rumors they’d heard. And they’d taken it upon themselves to punish her for harboring Apollites.

  Time the humans actually met some.

  Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

  The saddest part of life was when you manifested your own fears by your actions or inactions. Perhaps that was what karma actually was, in the end. Not some great, mystical force that came out of the blue to strike someone down without warning.

  Rather a by-product of someone’s own stupidity or cruelty where they sought to harm another that boomeranged around to take them down instead.

  Because that was what this would be tonight. The humans had feared his kind. Had they not lashed out and attacked his innocent mother needlessly, then he and his brothers would have left them in peace. But because they had attacked in their own vicious stupidity, he and his brothers would slaughter them in a manner far worse than anything they had envisioned or feared.

  There would be no quarter.

  No mercy.

  Only blood and screams.

  Theo grabbed Urian’s arm to stop him. “Are you sure we should be doing this? It’s the last thing Mata would want. She’d be horrified if she knew what we were planning in her name. You know how she felt about violence.”

  Urian glanced past his shoulder to meet Archie’s gaze. For the first time, they were united. “If you don’t have the stomach for this, Theo, go home. I’m not leaving this realm until I’ve tasted the blood of every human who participated in this, and if any of the others get in our way … fuck them.”

  He looked back at Theo. “Decide.”

  Theo swallowed and glanced to his own twin. “Alki?”

  Alkimos shook his head. “I’m with them in this, adelphos. But you follow your conscience. I won’t judge you.”

  Theo refused to give up as he sought to win more to his cause. “Atreus? Patroclus?”

  They both patted his shoulder. “We’re going,” they said in unison.

  Theo sighed heavily. “I can’t do this. Killing to survive is one thing. This is vengeance. It won’t bring her back. And I can’t shame her memory in this manner.”

  Urian forced himself not to sneer at his brother’s newfound religion—Devout Cowardice. “Perhaps, but it will make me feel better, and it is justice. That is what she deserves for what they did to her.” And with that, he summoned a portal for his brother. “Go home.”

  Nodding, Theo stepped through.

  Urian glanced to his brothers. “Anyone else?”

  United for this blood quest, they stood fast.

  “All right.” Urian closed the portal home so that no one else would find them until it was over.

  More to the point, no one could stop them.

  Then he used his powers to locate the place the flames had shown him. A small, sleepy human village where the cowards had run back to, thinking themselves safe and protected. Far away from any Apollite’s or Daimon’s reach.

  As if.

  Instead of killing a Spathi, the humans should have learned a few things about them first.

  One, they valued family above all. To attack one invited the group to come for you.

  Two, you only had one shot. You’d best make it count. Because when they got up, and they would, there would be no stopping them.

  The humans had made their strike and withdrawn.

  It would be their last mistake. In the end Urian didn’t care what his brothers did tonight. He had no intention of policing their actions. It wasn’t his place. Right and wrong made no never-mind to him. Not now. Not where his mother was concerned. The humans had forfeited their right to any form of mercy the moment they had failed to police their own. The moment they had set foot on his mother’s farm and laid a single cruel hand to her flesh and taken her property.

  Just as they had punished his mother for helping her family and shielding them, he felt the same for any human they might happen upon.

  They were all guilty by their births to human mothers.

  He was Apollo’s grandson, after all.

  Let there be blood. Let there be chaos.

  Most of all, let there be vengeance.

  Therefore when Urian kicked open the front door of the first attacker he tracked down and they threw in the torches to burn them out into the street where they waited to kill them, he felt nothing about the screams of that man’s family. He heard nothing and saw nothing other than the huge beast of a bastard who had beaten his tiny mother.

  That was the brute he seized. The brute he showed his fangs to.

  “Daimons!” the man shouted, trying to escape and fend Urian off.

  Urian laughed. “You wish. A Daimon would just want your soul.”

  But he wanted so much more. Blood vengeance. He wanted to make the man suffer long and hard. To listen to him scream and whimper for mercy until his throat was raw and bleeding.

  Urian used his powers to snap the human’s legs in multiple places. He wanted him to suffer as much as possible and to beg and cry, until the human was sick from it.

  He grabbed the man by his hair and pulled him up so that he could bare his fangs. “That’s it, human. Cry and beg me. I want to hear your pleas until you’re hoarse from our beatings and you choke to death on your own blood and bile.”

  The man screamed out even louder as his son ran through the streets to escape his brothers. With his powers, Urian trapped him and Archie caught the screaming boy up in his arms.

  Urian froze the moment he came through the portal to find his father seated on this throne, staring at him with a lethal glower.

  Yeah, that could melt arctic stone.

  His father didn’t move until all of them had arrived through the portal and were standing in the hall in front of him. Then he came off his throne like a lethal predator out of a frightening crouch.

  Except Urian wasn’t afraid. Not even a little. Honestly, he was still too grief-stricken to care.

  In a deadly mood, his father closed the distance between them. Urian felt the blood rolling off his armor. It dripped from the nasal guard of his helm and landed in a bright splatter pattern on the cold tile at his feet.

  Still, he didn’t move or flinch as he met his father’s gaze levelly.

  His father stopped in front of him and pulled the helm from his head. He swiped at the guard with his thumb, then placed the blood on his tongue to taste it. Licking it clean, he arched his brow as he realized it was human. “The least you could have done was taken a few Daimons with you to collect the souls.”

  Urian narrowed his eyes. “I would have gutted anyone who possessed any part of them. So long as my mata lies dead, so do they. No part of them should survive. Not even for a heartbeat.”

  With respect shining in his eyes, his father inclined his head to him. “Noted.”

  Archie bowed his h

ead. “Are you angry at us, Solren?”

  Their father scanned them in turn. “What do you think?”

  One by one, his brothers mumbled an apology.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Forgive me, Solren.”

  Until his father locked gazes with Urian. “Have you no apology for your actions?”

  Urian shook his head. “I’m not sorry. At all. The humans attacked what was mine and I retaliated with enough force to let them know that we will not tolerate their unprovoked assault on our people anymore. Besides, I would not have my mother’s Shade wandering the banks of the Acheron lamenting that her sons didn’t love her enough to see her properly avenged. I sent her to the underworld with more than enough coins to pay Charon’s fare, and with enough blood to fill the cups of any god who demands it.”

  His father let out a long, tired sigh, then turned toward his sons. “Go … get cleaned up and see to your families.”

  As Urian started to leave, his father stopped him.

  “Urian?”

  He dreaded the stern lecture he was sure was about to start, but he withheld his reaction from his father and forced himself to appear stoic. “Aye, Solren?”

  His father scowled as he studied the bloody helm in his hand. A tic worked furiously in his jaw as he returned it to Urian. “You do me proud, but …” He shook his head and growled.

  Those words and his reaction confused him. What was his father trying to say? “But what?”

  His gaze turned dark with warning. “Be careful of the demon that drives you so. I was hoping your Xanthia would help to take the edge from it. Instead, you seem to be even more hostile lately. It concerns me.”

  Some nights, it did him, too. “I’m fine, Solren.”

  “Are you?”

  He nodded, even though a part of him had doubts.

  Taking his helm, Urian headed for his home. But with every step, he shook more from his pent-up rage and grief. Worse? He knew he couldn’t go home like this. Not covered in blood and gore. The last thing he wanted was for his son and daughter to have this image of their father.

  Or Xanthia.

  What he’d done tonight was bad. On that count, Theo hadn’t been wrong. He had gloried in their deaths in a way that sickened even him. His wife and children didn’t need to know what he was capable of.

  Worse, he didn’t regret it at all. He’d do it again, without hesitation.

  I’m an animal. Theo was right. Their mother would have been ashamed of him.

  And yet he wasn’t. His need for justice still burned so deep in his bones that he wanted to go back and desecrate them more. There was some innate part of him that he didn’t understand. It screamed out for action with a madness he couldn’t comprehend.

  What is wrong with me?

  His brothers didn’t feel this same screaming need to right the scales of order that he did. To balance chaos and seek out those who’d done wrong.

  Why was he so different from them?

  Not wanting to think about it, he craved Xyn’s presence more than any other, but he knew better than to seek her out, especially after what had happened when he’d intruded on Apollymi’s garden. The last thing he needed was another head injury. So he headed for Paris’s home to wash and change clothes.

  To his surprise, Paris wasn’t there. Davyn answered the door with a shocked expression as he saw the condition Urian was in.

  Urian wiped at the blood on his face. “I was wondering if I could wash up here before I went home?”

  Davyn sputtered. “Depends … please tell me none of the guts or gore you’re wearing belongs to Paris.”

  Aghast and offended by the question, he scowled at his friend. “Nay, but if you don’t let me in, I might add yours to it.”

  Stepping back, Davyn made room for him to enter. “Well, you can’t blame me for asking, given how you two go at each other sometimes. It’s a natural assumption that it would be his, or another of your siblings.” He closed the door while Urian set his helm on a cloth atop their table. “Where is Paris, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. I assumed he’d be heading straight here.” Removing his cloak, Urian headed for the washing basin and poured the water while Davyn helped him unbuckle his armor.

  He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “What did you get into?”

  “Human entrails mostly.”

  “Ew!” Davyn shuddered. “Remind me never to disembowel them, then. They smell horrible!”

  “Indeed. I have to say that it makes me rather happy we have a liquid diet.”

  Suddenly, someone cleared his throat loudly behind them. “Should I ask why you’re stripping the clothes off my brother, Dav?”

  Urian glanced over his shoulder to see a clean and neatly polished Paris glaring at them. “Like you, I didn’t want to go home bloody and reeking to my wife.”

  Paris crossed his arms over his chest. “But you don’t mind reeking around my husband?”

  “Not really. Don’t care if I repulse him.”

  Paris laughed as he finally relaxed. “Fair point.” He came over to help Urian strip down so that he could clean up. “It was disgusting. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

  Davyn snorted. “I can’t believe you two didn’t take me. She was my mother, too.”

  Paris was instantly contrite. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about it. And I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  Urian quickly finished bathing while they drifted off to their bedroom, dropping garments as they went. “Paris, I’m going to borrow some clothes and let myself out while you apologize for being an ass.”

  They rumbled a response that was punctuated by some rather eyebrow-raising sounds that made it even more awkward for him.

  Wishing he shared that level of passion with his spouse, Urian quickly finished, then picked up his sword and shield and Paris’s cloak before heading toward his quiet, secluded home.

  Unlike Davyn for Paris, no one waited up for him.

  A quick sweep of his cottage found the children nestled in their beds, fast asleep. As was Xanthia. Which only made the emptiness inside Urian ache all the more. Even at home, he felt like an outsider.

  Unwelcome in his own house.

  In his own family. He still didn’t feel as if he belonged anywhere.

  Except with a dragon.

  How weird was that?

  Sighing, Urian placed his sword in its bracket on the wall and hung up his shield, then stoked the fire for his wife. Xanthia was cold natured, so he always made a point to put new wood on the fire before he went to bed and to get up before her so that the room wouldn’t be too chilly whenever she awoke.

  As he stood, he realized that she was watching him from the bed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “I heard what you did tonight.” Her tone was cold and brittle.

  He did his best to play it off, hoping she’d let the matter go. “Oh?”

  She glared up at him. Her eyes were bitter in their judgment. “Everyone was talking about it after Theo returned without you and the others, and he told what the lot of you had planned. They say the humans will retaliate now. That they’ll come here to find us.”

  He snorted at her ridiculous fear. As if a human could get through one of Apollymi’s bolt-holes, and even if they did, they’d land at his father’s feet in the center hall. A bad day for the human, but a good dinner for whatever Daimon happened to be there.

  They could use the snack.

  So he smirked at his wife. “I doubt that. If anything, they should fear us more.” It was the first time any Apollite or Daimon had ever struck back at them.

  And it was long past time for such, in his opinion.

  Sadly, Xanthia didn’t share his point of view. Rather, she curled her lip at him. “You’re a monstrous killer, Urian. I’m ashamed of what you’ve done.”

  Those words cut him deeply. But not nearly as much as the condemnation in her eyes. That stung soul deep.

  “I see.” He put the poker down beside the fireplace and headed for the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  He kept walking, without looking back. “Somewhere I’m wanted. Which obviously isn’t here.”

  Xyn was still in her human form when she smelled that warm, sweet scent that was her Urian. For the longest minute, she started not to change. To tell him that she’d been the one who’d handed him the cup earlier after Apollymi blasted him.

  That she’d finally felt the silk of his hair with her flesh that had burned from the memory of it ever since.

  If only she dared …

  Hating herself for the cowardice, she changed into her dragon body and tucked her black wings down so that she could meet him by the falls.

  By the sharpness of his scent, she knew he was furious.

  Most of all, she knew he was upset, and emotionally hurt.

  What happened?

  “We gutted every last one of them.”

  That made her feel better for him, but his mood confused her all the more. Shouldn’t he be happy? Good.

  Judging by the stunned expression on his face, her comment seemed to catch him off guard. “You’re not horrified?”

  Should I be?

  He gave her a pointed stare. Then spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “I slaughtered them, Xyn.”

  She nodded slowly. I got that, Urian. They killed your mother. They deserved whatever it is that you did and then some. She nuzzled him with her snout to offer him comfort. I just wish I could have been there to help you.

  He latched onto her and held tight.

  Xyn savored his embrace, wishing it were a real hug with their bodies pressed against each other. Why couldn’t she find the courage to tell him the truth?

  But then, she knew. She was terrified of losing what little contact she had with him. How would he react?

  What if he never wanted to see her again?

  It was a chance she just couldn’t take.

  Urian kissed her snout and pulled back. “Did you see Apollymi’s priestess today?”

  She froze at his unexpected question. Pardon?

  “A redheaded woman brought me water from your falls earlier. I know how you are about trespassers. So I was wondering how she got it.” He stroked her scales. “Her hair matched your coloring.”

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