Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Ash took a deep breath as he grappled with a past that had once brutalized him and left him a hollowed-out shell. If he could, he would save Urian from that additional misery. “Because if I hadn’t, you would have sold your soul to Artemis over this and killed your father.”

  “You think I’m not going to kill him over this?” He turned on Ash with a growl. “There’s nothing left of her. Nothing! I don’t even have anything to bury. I …” His words broke off as he sobbed.

  Ash placed his hand on Urian’s shoulder. “I know.”

  “You don’t know!”

  God, how he wished that were the truth. Ash gripped his chin and lifted it until their gazes locked. “Yes, Urian, I do know.” In ways this Daimon couldn’t imagine.

  Urian struggled to breathe as he saw images flickering through Ash’s swirling silver eyes that were identical to Apollymi’s. There was so much pain there, so much agony and wisdom.

  It was hard to maintain eye contact with him.

  “I don’t want to live without my Phoebe.” His voice broke on the words.

  “I know. For that reason, I’m giving you a choice. I can’t lock onto your father to monitor him. I need you to do that. Because sooner or later, he’ll be back after Apollo’s lineage.”

  So what! Urian curled his lip. “Why would I protect them now? Phoebe died because of them!”

  “Phoebe lived because of them, Urian. Remember? You and your father were responsible for killing her entire family. Did you ever tell Phoebe it was you? You. Who killed her grandmother? Or her sisters?”

  Urian looked away shamefaced as that guilt tore through him. “No. I would never have hurt her.”

  “Yet you did. Every time you, your father, or one of your Spathis killed one of her family, she felt the pain you feel now. Her mother’s and sisters’ deaths tore her apart. Isn’t that why you saved Cassandra to begin with?”

  Of course it was. One tear from Phoebe’s eyes had always shattered him. “Yes.”

  Acheron stepped away from him while Urian pulled himself together as best he could.

  “You said I had a choice?”

  Acheron drew a ragged breath. “The other is that I will erase your memories of everything. You’ll be free of all of this. All your pain. The past, the present. You can live as if none of this had ever happened to you.”

  A blank slate. Thousands of years gone. It sounded so easy, but Urian didn’t believe even Acheron had those powers. He knew the gods better than that.

  Besides, he was tired of it all. Life meant pain. It was brutal and it gutted everyone to their knees. And he was so sick of this. “Will you kill me if I ask it?”

  “Do you want me to?”

  At the moment, it was all he wanted. How ironic was that? He who’d taken so many lives in an effort to live one more day, to breathe one more breath, just wanted to finally expel his last and be done with it all.

  But in this, his weakest, darkest moment, how strange that it was Xyn’s voice he heard.

  Remember the precious cost …

  Damn his dragon for making him see truth even now.

  Weaker than he’d ever been in his life, he met Acheron’s gaze. And damn this son of Apollymi for making him into what he’d become, because he knew that by saving his life, Acheron had turned him into something else entirely. But he had no idea what he was now. “I’m no longer a Daimon, am I?”

  “No. Nor are you an Apollite, exactly.”

  “Then what am I?”

  Acheron took a deep breath before he spoke again. “You are unique in this world.”

  Unique. Wonderful. Just what he’d never wanted to be. All he’d ever wanted was to fit in, and now he stood out even more.

  “How much longer will I live?”

  Acheron shrugged. “You’re immortal, barring death.”

  Urian curled his lips at what had to be the dumbest answer ever. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Most of life doesn’t.”

  He wouldn’t argue that. The gods knew that he’d never been able to figure it out. Urian sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “Can I walk in daylight?”

  “If you want, I can make it so. If you choose amnesia, I will make you fully human.”

  Urian arched a brow at the most shocking thought of all. “You can do that?”

  Ash nodded.

  Yeah, only one born of a primal power could do that. Born of the light and dark. Not even Apollymi had the powers Acheron had.

  Damn.

  Urian laughed bitterly as he raked a cold look over Ash’s body and in particular where the tattoo dragon had gone. He knew exactly what that was. And what it meant. “You know, Acheron, I’m not stupid, nor am I as blind as Stryker. Does he know of the demon you carry on your body?”

  “No, and Simi isn’t a demon, she’s part of me.”

  With Simi being a Charonte demon, that was an understatement, since they bonded to their master and became a symbiotic life form. Acheron was full of surprises. No wonder Urian hadn’t been able to get a reading on him when they’d crossed paths in the past.

  Urian’s gaze bored into his. “That I find most interesting of all. Poor Stryker, he’s so screwed and he doesn’t even know it.”

  He moved to stand closer to Acheron. “I know who and what you are, Acheron Parthenopaeus.”

  “Then you know if you ever pass your knowledge along I’ll make sure you regret it. Eternally.”

  Yeah, he just bet Acheron would at that. Urian nodded. “But I don’t understand why you hide.”

  Acheron shrugged. “I’m not hiding. The knowledge you carry can’t help anyone. It can only destroy and harm.”

  Perhaps there was truth to that. Just like his powers of healing. Whenever people knew about them, they went crazy for them and there were limitations to what he could do. And when they failed, it got ugly fast. So like Acheron, he kept his powers hidden. For his own well-being as much as for others.

  Urian winced as he thought back to all the lives of the people he’d loved who were lost to him. His children. His mother. His wives. Brothers and sisters. The humans and Daimons he’d killed for the right to continue living. “I’m through being a destroyer.”

  “Then what are you?”

  Urian let his thoughts wander through the events of this night. He thought about the aching pain inside him that screamed over the loss of his wife. It was so tempting to let Acheron erase it all, but with that he would lose all the good memories he carried, too.

  Though he and Phoebe had only had a few years together, she had loved him in ways no one ever had. Touched a heart he had thought was long dead.

  No, it hurt to live without her, but he didn’t want to lose all connection with her.

  He fastened her locket around his neck as he realized that for the first time since he was a boy, his head was quiet. The only voice in it now was his own.

  “I’m your man, Acheron. But I warn you now. If I’m ever given a chance to kill Stryker, I will take it. Consequences be damned.”

  …

  Stryker snarled in outrage as he found himself in the Destroyer’s throne room. “I was so close to killing them. Why did you stop me? How could you have pulled me back here?”

  Still the demon, Sabine, held him back from Apollymi’s throne.

  For once Xedrix wasn’t in the room with his mother, but Stryker didn’t have time to ponder the demon’s whereabouts. His thoughts were too consumed by hatred and vexation.

  His mother sat on her chaise completely poised, as if she were holding court and hadn’t just destroyed all their years of careful planning.

  “Do not raise your voice to me, Strykerius. I will not take your insubordination.”

  He forced himself to level his voice even while his blood simmered in fury. “Why did you interfere?”

  She pulled her black pillow into her lap and toyed with a corner of it. “You cannot win against the Elekti. I told you that.”

  “I could have beaten him,” Stryker ins
isted. No one could stop him. He was sure of it.

  “No, you couldn’t.” She dropped her gaze again and ran her hand elegantly over the black satin. “There is no pain worse than a son who betrays your cause, is there, Strykerius? You give them everything and do they listen? No. Do they respect you? No. Instead they shred your heart and spit on the kindness you would show to them.”

  Stryker clenched his eyes shut as she voiced the very thoughts inside his heart. He’d given Urian everything. And how had his son repaid him? With a betrayal so profound that it had taken him days to come to grips with it.

  Part of him hated Apollymi for telling him the truth. The other part thanked her. He’d never been the kind of man to welcome a snake to his bosom.

  He still couldn’t get over the fact that Urian hadn’t trusted him, his own father. That his son honestly thought, after all these years, he couldn’t tell him the simple truth.

  He’d remarried.

  And now what had those actions done? Urian’s wife had gone trelos and attacked her own commune. Because she was human and couldn’t handle it. His son’s lies had forced him to commit even bigger ones to protect Urian.

  You killed him for his betrayal. That was the lie Stryker would live with. Not the truth. That he’d done it to spare Urian from finding out that Phoebe had gone insane. Because that would kill Urian’s heart. He knew his son too well. And he’d never be able to watch what that would have done to his boy.

  The anguish and self-hatred.

  Stryker was already hated and loathed. Better he remain the monster they all thought him to be, than watch his son die slowly from his own recriminations.

  Urian died for betrayal. Betrayal to the community and to him.

  And Stryker would never do that to his mother. “I will listen to you, akra.”

  Sighing, she cradled the pillow to her breast. “Good.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  She gazed at him with a small, beautiful smile. When she spoke, her words were simple, but her tone was purely evil. “We wait.”

  Urian really didn’t feel like being here. In fact, this was the absolute last place he wanted to be.

  Muppet’s house.

  But he had nowhere to go. How pathetic was that? Eleven thousand years old and he was homeless. Friendless.

  And the only family he had was this Viking piece of shit.

  Glorious. Just glorious.

  Even better, he could hear Chris grumbling as he came to open the door to let him and Acheron into the house.

  Wulf rose to his feet as they entered. He also gasped. Not that Urian blamed him. He knew he looked bad. He was pale, his clothes still covered in blood. And he was madder than ten liters of hell saturated by demon piss and poured down the throats of a starving Charonte. No doubt all of that radiated in his body language and eyes.

  The blond Armani-wearing Dark-Hunter who was seated on their right was the first to recover himself and speak. “We were getting worried about you, Ash.”

  The surly dark-haired bastard from the club who had a goatee snorted. “I wasn’t. But now that you’re here, do you need me for anything else?”

  “No, Z,” Ash said quietly. “Thanks for coming.”

  He inclined his head. “Any time you want me to help rip something apart, just give me call. But in the future, could you pick somewhere warmer to do it?” He flashed out of the room before anyone could respond.

  The biker blond covered with Celtic tattoos smirked. “You know, it really pisses me off that he’s a god now.”

  “Just make sure you don’t piss him off,” Acheron said in warning. “Or he might turn you into a toad.”

  The Celt blustered. “He wouldn’t dare.”

  Armani snorted. “We are talking about Zarek, right?”

  “Oh yeah,” the Celt said. “Never mind.”

  Armani stood up with a groan. “Well, since I’m one of the few nonimmortals in the room, I think I’m going to head to bed and rest.”

  The Celt flexed his bandaged arm. “Sleep sounds like a plan to me.”

  Chris threw the medical supplies back into a plastic box. “C’mon, guys, and I’ll show you where you can crash.”

  Cassandra stood up with Erik in her arms, intending to follow after them. “I guess I should—”

  “Wait,” Urian said, stopping her. “Can I hold him?”

  She hesitated with a worried frown that he knew he’d earned. He’d barely looked at Erik before this. He hadn’t wanted to.

  Part of it had been jealousy. Phoebe had wanted a baby desperately, and it had been the one thing he’d never been able to give her. Another had been pure, unadulterated grief. Because when he saw children, it took him back to his youth. Back to the days when his nieces and nephews had been born, and they’d been hopeful of finding an end to their curse.

  Before there had been so many deaths. He hadn’t wanted to think about all the times he’d held Geras and Nephele when they were young.

  But now …

  Cassandra glanced to Ash, who nodded.

  Her features reluctant, she handed Erik over to him.

  Damn, it’d been so long since he last held a baby that he almost dropped the little squirmy thing. She actually had to show him how to hold one again.

  How could he forget something so important as to hold the baby’s head and neck? But then it had literally been hundreds of years. Lucky for them both, it didn’t take long for it to come back to him. And the smell …

  That he definitely remembered. That newborn baby smell. Before the world came and tainted them. Scarred them with its brutality and ugliness. Taught them to hate and to hurt. Taught their hearts to bleed.

  He would give anything to spare this child the nightmares that were ahead for him. The harsh lessons that would come in the future and bring him to his knees.

  “You’re so fragile,” Urian breathed at the tiny boy who eyed him so cluelessly about the misery this world was getting ready to unleash on him. “And yet you’re still alive while my Phoebe isn’t.”

  Wulf took a step forward.

  Acheron held him back. “Will you stay and guard your family?”

  Urian snarled at Acheron for a reminder he despised him for. “My family is dead.” Thanks to Acheron and his mother.

  Acheron’s gaze turned sympathetic as he glanced down at the infant in his arms. “No, Urian, it’s not. Phoebe’s blood is in that baby. Erik carries her immortality with him.”

  Urian hated him for that reminder that made him feel again. Made him care when he didn’t want to. In his mind, he saw how excited she was every time she talked about Erik and his imminent arrival.

  “She loved this baby,” he whispered. “I could tell how much she wanted her own whenever she spoke of him. I only wish I could have given her one.”

  “You gave her everything else, Urian.” Cassandra’s eyes filled with tears as she spoke of her sister. “She knew that, and she loved you for it.”

  Those words broke him in a way nothing else had. And for the first time, he actually liked his sister-in-law.

  Acheron was right. She was his family.

  So was this baby.

  And that stupid Muppet asshole.

  Urian wrapped an arm around Cassandra and pulled her close. He laid his head down on her shoulder and finally gave in to the tears that had been choking him. Clutching him tight, Cassandra sobbed against his shoulder.

  After a time, Urian let go and handed her Erik. “I won’t let your baby die, Cassandra. I swear it. No one will ever hurt him. Not as long as I live.”

  Cassandra kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  His throat tight, Urian nodded and withdrew from her. He drew a ragged breath and wiped his tears off on the sleeve of his jacket.

  “What an alliance, huh?” Wulf asked after Cassandra had left them. “A Dark-Hunter and a Spathi united to guard an Apollite. Who would have ever imagined?”

  Acheron snorted. “Love makes strange bedfellows.” />
  Muppet scowled. “I thought that was politics.”

  “It’s both,” Acheron said with a grin.

  Urian folded his arms over his chest. “Would you mind if I slept in the boathouse?”

  Wulf nodded. “Sure. Consider it yours for as long as you want it.”

  Urian inclined his head to him and headed out, trying his best not to think about the last time he was here.

  With Phoebe.

  For Phoebe.

  He’d barely reached it when he felt a strange presence behind him. It was one he knew all too well. He felt his arm heating up as he prepared to hurl a bolt at it.

  “Oh now, akri-Daimon, don’t be doing that! You smack the Simi, and the Simi be sad. She not coming to hurt you. I just wanted to come bring you some barbecue chips and make you smiley ’cause you gots the hurts. Now put your arm away.”

  What the hell? “Who are you?”

  Tall and thin, she stepped from the shadows. Unlike the Charonte he was used to, she didn’t have wings or horns, or mottled skin. Rather she appeared human. Dressed in a short Goth skirt, with striped leggings and a corset top, she was adorable. Right down to her coffin pocketbook and tall, stacked heels. Her black hair had the same odd red stripe in it that Acheron’s did. Only she wore her hair up in pigtails.

  Flouncing over to him, she took his arm and led him upstairs.

  “You are a Charonte, right?”

  “’Course I am. All the demons are.”

  “Then why aren’t you in Kalosis?”

  She made an adorably cute face. “Mostly ’cause the Simi’s not visiting akra-goddess. That’s why, silly!” She opened the door with her powers and led him in.

  “I am so confused.”

  She grinned. “Knows whatcha mean. The Simi stays confuzzled most the times. Face it. The world’s just a confuzzling kind of place.”

  Suddenly, Urian felt like an idiot as he realized who and what the demon was. “You’re Acheron’s tattoo? From the club.”