Instead, Urian paused to hand the girl his purse.
She was so skittish that she actually flinched.
“It’s your tip,” he assured her. “Please, take it.”
Her hand trembled, but not as much as her voice. “Thank you, my lord.”
He narrowed his eyes on Theo. “And that’s why I don’t want Nephele in the human realm.”
“I know, adelphos. I have two daughters. You think I ever sleep?”
Manades snorted. “Try having six. I haven’t slept since the day the first one was born, and it hasn’t gotten any better as they’ve aged.”
Not wanting to think about that, Urian drew up short as they left the building and a tall, dark-haired man cut them off on their way to kill their prey.
“Excuse us.” Aggravated, Urian tried to step around him.
He intentionally moved to stand in their way.
Urian arched his brow. “Did you not hear my apology?”
“I heard, Daimon. Just don’t care.”
That sobered him quickly, as it’d been a long, long time since anyone in the human realm had known who or what they really were. Their breed had been lost long ago to myths and legends. “Who are you, stranger?”
“The who isn’t important. I’m a Dark-Hunter.”
Urian scowled. “You hunt the dark? Isn’t that a little futile?”
As expected, he had no sense of humor. Rather he glared at Urian as if he could cut his throat. “A warrior of Artemis. Charged with putting an end to your kind.”
“Isn’t that a little harsh? Brother, I just met you. Shouldn’t you get to know me before you want to kill me?”
Baring fangs, he lunged at them and stabbed Manades right through his Daimon’s mark. Poor Manades didn’t even have time to scream.
He burst apart into a shower of gold dust.
Theo turned pale as Urian’s humor evaporated.
“Did you know we did that?” Theo breathed.
Urian opened a portal as the Dark-Hunter moved to engage them. He blocked him from Theo and shoved his brother through so that he could return home.
Or at least he tried to. Stubborn bastard wouldn’t go, and Urian didn’t have time to argue as the Dark-Hunter pulled out a kopis and made ready to carve him like a roast.
Using his powers, he manifested his own. But before he got a chance to parry, Theo bit into the Dark-Hunter’s neck. They both screamed out. However, the Dark-Hunter’s cry turned into cruel laughter.
“Didn’t anyone tell you, Daimon? Dark-Hunter blood is poisonous to your kind.”
Urian blasted the bastard with a god-bolt, then used his powers to fry him with everything he had. He didn’t wait around to see if it killed the Dark-Hunter. Instead, he seized his brother and carried him into the portal.
By the time they landed in Kalosis, Theo was barely breathing.
His father shot to his feet and came down from his throne as Urian laid Theo on the floor. “What is this?”
Theo gasped and choked as he shook from head to toe. “He’s been poisoned. By a Dark-Hunter.”
“A what?”
Urian met his father’s gaze. “A Dark-Hunter. Apparently Aunt Artemis has been busy. She’s created something to hunt and kill us.”
“Apollymi!” his father called.
Urian felt his arm begin to glow, but he wasn’t sure if his powers would work on this. He’d never tried to use them on a Daimon. “Theo? Look at me!”
Theo was barely coherent.
“Don’t you dare die!” Urian choked on his tears.
Apollymi appeared at his brother’s feet, then froze. “Xedrix! Fetch the sap!”
Her Charonte flew off to obey.
She immediately rushed to Theo’s side and knelt down to touch his forehead. Urian didn’t miss the tears in her own eyes as she met his gaze. “I didn’t know about these creatures.”
His father glared at her. “When were they created?”
She glanced toward his father. “I don’t know. But I will find out, and I promise if they have a weakness, I will learn it for you.”
“Uri?” Theo reached up and grabbed his chiton.
“Aye?”
“Be a father to my children for me. Tell Prax—” He burst apart into nothing.
Urian couldn’t breathe as he stared at the golden dust that had been his brother. Stunned disbelief kept him paralyzed. How could this be?
How?
Theo couldn’t be dead. Not like this.
Nay … He looked up to meet his father’s equally shocked gaze. Fury descended over his features as he summoned his armor.
“Trates!” he roared. “Give me six men. Now!”
Urian stood up.
His father blasted him with a god-bolt that sent him reeling and crashing into the far wall. “I will not lose another son tonight! Damn it to the farthest pit, boy, you will stay here if I have to feed you to the Charonte!”
And with that, his father and Trates, along with their team, were gone.
Embarrassed and in pain, Urian pushed himself to his feet. Apollymi came over to him with a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry, Urian.”
“For which part?”
“All of it, but mostly for your brother.”
He felt the tears stinging his eyes. “We were blindsided. The Dark-Hunter stabbed Manades in his mark and he burst apart. Did you know that about us?”
She shook her head.
“Then Theo bit him and he told us that their blood was poison to us.”
She cupped his cheek in her hand. “Artemis has always been a treacherous whore. If she’s created an army, you know it was for selfish reasons.”
That didn’t change the fact that he now had to go to Praxia and tell her that her husband wasn’t coming home. That he’d have to tell his other brothers about this. His stomach tightened so much that for a moment, he thought he might be sick.
A sob broke, but Urian caught it with a ragged breath.
Unexpectedly, Apollymi pulled him against her and held him in her arms. “Just breathe, child. Life is loss. It’s harsh and it’s pain. There are days when it seeks to drive us to our knees. When we’re left asking ourselves why we shouldn’t just slit the wrist and be done with it all.”
“I’ve been feeling a lot of that lately.”
“I know.” She kissed his brow. “But it also surprises us. Fills us with warmth and happiness, and those moments when we know there’s something more. Something wonderful.”
He scoffed at her words. “I haven’t felt that in a long, long time, akra. All I have inside me is an aching hollowness that wakes every night, seeking some reason as to why I should bother finding another soul to elongate my useless life.”
“I’ll tell you why, Urian. Don’t let the bastards win.”
“Pardon?”
“You want a reason to live? That’s one good reason, there. It pisses off your enemies. If you can’t live for those who love you, then live to spite those who hate your guts. Every breath you take is a spit in their eye. Savor it as such, knowing they begrudge you every intake that feeds your starving lungs.”
He actually gave a bitter laugh at that. “Spoken like a true goddess of destruction.”
“Absolutely. Sometimes it’s not a matter of being the best. You just have to be the last man standing.”
“Is that what you are?”
“Nay, good Urian. I’m the most dangerous enemy of all. I’m the patient one. I lie in wait, letting them think that they have me quelled when the truth is far different. I’m watching and learning. After all, the tiger lies low not from fear, but for aim.”
“It doesn’t matter if you strike the first blow, but you better make sure you strike the last one.” That was what his father had always said.
Apollymi nodded. “Exactly.”
Sighing, he wiped at his eyes. “Thank you, akra.”
She rubbed his back. “You know where I am if you need me.”
Urian didn’t move u
ntil she’d left him alone. His mind was still reeling with the events of the night and the fact that he needed a soul.
Artemis had changed the rules on them. A part of him wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that they’d been hunting and killing Apollo’s other lineage. But then, he couldn’t imagine that Artemis would care.
As Apollymi had noted, she was too selfish for that.
Paris and Davyn entered the hall, looking for his father. Urian flinched as he realized they had no idea what had happened. Unable to tell them about Theo, he opened a portal and for the first time in his life, he ran.
Which was a stupid thing since he didn’t know where the portal would drop him. Fortunately, it didn’t drop him in daylight.
It took him a full minute to realize that this was the ruins of Sheba’s capitol. He was standing in what had once been the hallway where she’d died.
Haunted by the ghosts of his past, he tried to remember that night. But time had dulled his memories. It was so long ago now. He could barely remember what she looked like. Even the fact that he’d been married seemed more like a dream than reality.
And still the human souls in his head screamed. The only time they gave him peace was whenever Xyn was with him. For some reason, he didn’t hear them with her around. He didn’t know if he was so occupied by her presence that he just didn’t pay attention or if there was something about her that blotted them out.
Whatever it was, her presence gave him a precious reprieve from the madness.
As Urian was thinking about Xyn, he caught a peculiar flash buried in the rubble. Scowling, he walked over to it. At first, he thought it was some bit of trash. Until he got closer and picked it up.
It was a piece of armor that had broken off. Not just any armor.
This was a symbol he knew and had seen. Many times. His heart hammering, he took it and returned to Kalosis.
Without a word to anyone, he teleported to Apollymi’s palace and headed for her garden.
As always, she was sitting at her mirror, watching the world. But when she felt his approach, she came to her feet. “Has something else happened?”
He bowed to her, then held the armor piece out toward her. “What is this emblem?”
She took one look at it and her eyes flashed red. “Where did this come from?”
“From Sheba’s palace. It’s part of the armor our attackers were wearing that night.”
The piece burst apart as her black dress fluttered. “It appears we have a most potent enemy. Helios went after you, along with my sister Azura.”
“Why?”
“You are the children of Apollo. My guess is, he wants to eradicate all of you and retake his godhood.”
“But we hate Apollo.”
She laughed bitterly. “That doesn’t matter, Urian. When you carry the blood of a god, you carry a death sentence. For we are petty creatures. Far more so than mankind. And our grudges and power plays take on far worse consequences than anything mankind can conceive.”
Apollymi took his hand and pulled him toward her mirror. “Look into the water.”
As he did so, she stood behind him with one hand on his shoulder and the other at his waist. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Strange how she seemed so much larger and more fierce until now.
But really, she was a tiny thing physically compared to him. Her frame was delicately boned and almost fragile in appearance. Meanwhile, he might not be as well muscled as his father, but he still wasn’t slight of frame by any means. His physique was honed and lethal from all his battles and practice. Scarred from war, and even from play.
She danced her fingertips lightly over his collarbone and as she did so, his arm illuminated. The scroll pattern became luminescent and vibrant as if it had a life of its own. And the color shot all the way to his eyes.
“You are a creature of great beauty,” she whispered in his ear. “Like me, a weapon of absolute death and yet you can give life.”
“I couldn’t save my brother or sister.” He choked on his tears.
“That is our tragedy and heart fires that forge us into who and what we are. We hate them for it, but they mold us against our wills. And we have a choice; we either allow those tragedies to bend us into the weapon we’re meant to be so that we can continue to fight the battles we must, or we shatter under the weight of them to become useless things. I will never be a useless thing to lie on the floor and bemoan what has happened to me. Rather I will strike back and strike down all those who’ve tried to break me. For that is what a weapon forged by fire does.”
She moved her arms so that she held him in a mother’s embrace. “I know you don’t feel like a weapon tonight. You’re shaken by the blows you’ve taken, and you feel as if one more will break you. But I know you, Urian. You are the phoenix on your shield. You will rise from these ashes, a stronger, greater warrior, and you will tear down your enemies.”
He leaned back against her and nodded. “Thank you, akra.”
She nodded grimly. “While you were gone, I found out about your Dark-Hunters.”
He turned to face her. “Why did she create them?”
“For control. No other reason. It’s a power play against her brother.”
“With no care for our lives?”
“If she cared for you lives, Urian, she’d have helped all of you when you were cursed.”
She was right and he knew it. Though Artemis was his aunt, he’d never met her or seen her. She was a goddess and she could have saved them, yet she’d done nothing to intervene on their behalf.
“But I do know their weaknesses.”
His heart skipped a beat with that. “What are they?”
“Mostly the same as yours. They cannot go out in the daylight. Though they are immortal and don’t have to feed on blood, they can be killed. Beheading. Daylight. Total dismemberment. And they have human helpers—shield-bearers who watch over them while they sleep. They do have to eat, so they are out and about, and they live in the human world, which makes them vulnerable. They can’t harm any Apollite or human. They can only slay Daimons.”
“If they break that code?”
“They will be killed.”
“So we can use humans against them?”
She inclined her head to him.
“Good … then it’s war.”
Apollymi smiled in approval. “And I designate you as my primary general.”
September 3, 7382 BC
Urian felt the power of an ancient being roll through the room like a tidal wave three seconds before the door to the inn opened. No one else seemed to notice, but it made every nerve ending on his body stand up.
And how could it not?
This creature, for lack of a better term, stood every bit as tall as his father, at six feet eight inches. With long jet-black hair that flowed past his shoulders, he was dressed as a barbarian in furs and black flowing robes and trousers. But what caught Urian’s attention even more than his godlike essence was the staff he carried.
The twisted wood was topped with Apollymi’s sun symbol, which was pierced by three lightning bolts.
Even Paris, who stood beside him, scowled as soon as he saw the emblem. “Is that …”
“It is.” Urian felt his arm heating up to an unbearable level. Especially when the man-creature turned a pair of swirling silver eyes toward him.
Paris sucked his breath in sharply.
“You should go.”
His brother hesitated. “What about you?”
“I won’t be far behind.”
Still Paris didn’t move.
Irritated, Urian pushed him toward Davyn. He projected his thoughts to both of them. Take your husband and get out of here. Now! Through the back door.
“Acheron?”
The creature turned toward a Greek soldier while Urian shielded his brother’s exit. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to either Paris or Davyn. Not tonight.
Yet he felt a peculiar pull toward Acher
on. There was some kind of familiarity. As if he should know him. He couldn’t explain it. Like something inside him knew this man, or that he should who he was.
He’d never felt anything like it.
Still his arm throbbed. Thank the gods he had it completely covered with a leather pauldron, bracer, and glove, and his chalmys.
Suddenly, the voices in his head grew louder.
Not just the human souls he’d taken. There were more now.
Disoriented, Urian moved to leave only to find Acheron in his way. Up close, he appeared physically younger than Urian. Not by much, maybe a couple of years. And they were about the same build. Yet it annoyed him that the bastard had a couple of inches on his height.
Acheron narrowed his gaze on him. “Do I know you?”
Urian shook his head and without a word, he quickly brushed past him and left.
Acheron gasped as he felt the light touch like a physical blow to his body. More like a sledgehammer to his chest. Indeed, he could barely breathe. It was so severe that it activated his Charonte protector on his arm.
“Shh, Simi,” he breathed, stroking her with his hand to calm her so that she didn’t peel herself off his skin in front of the humans gathered in the tavern and frighten them with her sudden demonic appearance.
He wasn’t harmed. At least not physically. But he was concerned.
Heading back toward the table, he sat down across from the hardened warlord he’d come here to meet. With dark blond hair and frigid green eyes that gave the illusion they glowed, he had a scar across his collarbone where it appeared someone had once tried to cut his throat. Given the violence Thorn was capable of, Acheron was certain that person hadn’t survived their stupidity. Indeed, in this din of warriors, Thorn stood out as one not to be trifled with. He had an air of death and cruelty.
But Acheron knew better. He wasn’t cruel to anyone who didn’t have it coming. Thorn was a champion for humanity. Centuries ago, he’d taken it upon himself to police the demons who preyed upon them and send them back to their dimensions so that they couldn’t harm innocents. It was a thankless task, yet Thorn never complained.
Well … “never” was a bit of a stretch.
And while Acheron was the newly designated leader of the Dark-Hunters Artemis had created, he knew nothing of leading others.
Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28) Page 29