Death Doesn't Bargain: A Deadman's Cross Novel

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  His expression still furious, he landed on the beach in front of them, and tucked his coal-black wings down. Along with his tail. All that remained of his handsomeness were those vivid purple eyes that swept over their group as if sizing them up for lunch.

  After a few seconds, he seemed to calm.

  The moment he did, his armor slowly flipped up in a wave to melt and then vanish inside his flesh as it returned to a normal human hue.

  Once it was again its flawless caramel shade, the Charonte flew back, then transformed into small dragons and other beasts so that they could lay themselves over his skin. Cameron’s jaw was still slack as Savitar resumed his earlier breechcloth attire and he ran his hand over the Charonte tattoos. That action seemed to calm him and return him to his earlier laid-back lethality.

  All that remained of his demon body was the staff and that hellfire stare that dared them to mention what had just happened.

  Savitar glared at Kalder. “So … that little bastard of fun will be back, won’t he?”

  “Sad to say, most likely. He never could learn.”

  “Beautiful. Should I gut you now? Stake you out on the beach as a sacrifice so he’ll leave me alone?”

  Kalder scratched nervously at his neck. “I’d rather you not.”

  “And I’d rather be left alone and not be pulled into your little family drama.” Savitar growled low in his throat. “Good thing for you that I know it won’t placate them. Damn it to the Source! Why’d you have to go and do something so stupid?”

  “I didn’t mean to land us here. I was trying for Tobago.”

  “Well, your geography sucks, buddy. You need a new map. Preferably one updated to this century … whatever century we’re currently in. Not like I give a fuck.”

  Kalder opened his mouth to speak, but Savitar held his hand up to silence him. “Just don’t make this worse.” He grimaced at the captain. “And you…”

  “What?”

  “Scáthach should have drowned you when you were born.”

  “Wish she had. Would have saved me endless centuries of trouble.”

  Cameron bit her lip. “Scáthach?” she whispered to Kalder. “As in the Celtic goddess who trained Cú Chulainn?”

  “Not exactly a goddess, but aye. She did train Cú Chulainn and she was the Chthonian in charge of the Dumnonii lands … and all of northern Europe when the captain was mortal.”

  That knowledge stunned her.

  “They are the same person?”

  Kalder nodded.

  “And Kalder trained under her as well.”

  Cameron’s jaw went slack again at Chthamalus’s words. “What?”

  Chthamalus puffed his chest out proudly. “Was one of her best pupils, he was. And youngest. He fought his way into her fortress in record time with the skills I taught him.”

  “Truth?”

  Kalder blushed. “Don’t know about record time. But aye. I studied for a year under both her and her daughter.”

  “In more ways than one.” Chthamalus coughed into his hand, making Cameron scowl at what he meant by that.

  But her expression was nothing compared to Rosie’s deep frown of consternation. “I didn’t think Chthonians could have children.”

  “Her daughters were adopted.”

  Ignoring their conversation, Savitar struck his staff against the sand. “Leucious!” he roared to the heavens. “Drag your sanctimonious ass here, or so help me, I’m heading into Azmodea and you won’t like what happens to you when I get there!”

  The dark clouds parted an instant before a fancy dandy materialized on the beach near Savitar. It took Cameron a moment to recognize their illustrious leader, who was even more ornately dressed than normal in a bright pink brocade and an elaborate court wig.

  “Keep your shirt off, surf-nut. I sw—” Thorn’s words came to an abrupt stop as he realized he wasn’t alone on the beach. Lowering his monocle, he straightened. “Oh.”

  “Oh?” Savitar mocked the word. “Really? That’s all you have to say? You dump your misfits off on me and oh?”

  When Thorn started to speak, Savitar held his hand up. “Just don’t. Because I have one important question to ask you before you say something that makes me gut you where you stand, sullying my sand. Out of curiosity … whose side were you really on when you cut the throat of a Cyphnian and sent him down to Vine and Noir to keep them company? Huh? ’Cause I keep going over the whole thing in my head, and while I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt, old man, I just can’t make myself believe for one iota of a yactosecond that you’d be that stupid.”

  Savitar moved to stand in front of Thorn. “You knew exactly what he was when you did it, didn’t you?”

  A tic started in Thorn’s jaw, but he refused to show a bit of remorse or any fear. He met Savitar’s gaze levelly and without flinching or faltering. “Aye. I knew.”

  12

  Kalder was stunned by Thorn’s unexpected confession. How could the demon bastard have set him free into the world again, if he really knew who and what Kalder was? What he was capable of doing? It made no sense.

  “You knew?” Savitar accused.

  “Of course I knew.” Thorn was indignant. “I’m not stupid. I leave that precarious state up to you, surf-for-brains.”

  Savitar sent a blast of fire straight at Thorn.

  Thorn returned it in full measure. “Don’t you even start with me, Chthonian. Or I’ll wedge your surfboard sideways into a piece of your anatomy you won’t ever forget.”

  “You traitorous bastard!”

  That sobered Thorn, who stalked Savitar like a savage predator after the beast who’d wounded it. Rage bled out from every part of his body. “How dare you of all creatures accuse me of that!”

  Now it was Savitar’s turn to be indignant. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Beg all you want, but you won’t get it. And you heard me. As if your hands are any cleaner in this fight than mine, or that you’d be any less likely to switch sides. If you ever think for one heartbeat that I’d shift loyalties to my father, then you’d best think again, and remember that the day I do, I’d kill my son and wife in the process. So fuck you, Chthonian! And your suspicions! You can take them both and shove them up your ass and down your throat! My ties to the right side of this fight are a whole lot stronger than yours will ever be!”

  “Wife?” The captain gaped.

  Thorn froze instantly. Then took a step back as if suddenly remembering that he and Savitar weren’t the only two on the island.

  His features paled as he glanced about, and he became acutely aware of just how many had borne witness to his slip of the tongue.

  Savitar gave him an evil smirk. “Yes, punkin’, we all heard what you said. Want to keep going? What other interesting tidbits are you planning to let out in the midst of your verbal spewage?”

  Thorn narrowed his gaze. “Careful, punkin’, you know what they say about those who live in glass houses.”

  “They get a lot of sunshine?”

  Thorn sneered at his sarcasm. “I was thinking they get covered in a lot of bug shit, myself. But tomato, tamahto.”

  Savitar twisted his jaw in a way that said he was barely restraining the urge to punch him. “You really make it hard not to gut you some days.”

  “Ditto.”

  “Well, I should have known.…”

  Cameron gaped as a man appeared next to her and Kalder who was equal in height to Savitar. Which was to say, he was gigantic. Only instead of being muscular, he was lean, yet every bit as lethal and mysterious. There was no mistaking his power that said he could easily match the rest of them.

  And then some.

  The only difference was that he had exceptionally long black hair and eyes of mercury silver that swirled like the sea during a storm. Aged eyes that said he’d seen more than his fair share of trouble and misery.

  And he wore a plain black woolen coat more akin to the captain’s than the ornate style favored by Thorn, Bart, or Wi
ll.

  At his approach, Thorn and Savitar stepped apart like two errant children who’d been caught squabbling by their parents and wanted to hide their misbehavior before a grand spanking ensued.

  “He started it.” Savitar jerked his chin at Thorn.

  “Acheron!” Janice shouted in happiness. “Get me away from these idiots!”

  Cameron’s eyes widened as she realized that this was the mysterious Acheron Parthenopaeus who led the Dark-Hunters—the group of warriors charged with protecting mankind from the Daimons who preyed on them and their souls. Unlike Thorn’s Hellchasers, who sent demons back to their dimensions after they escaped or broke whatever rule had allowed them a temporary reprieve, or the Necrodemians such as her brother, who killed the dark demons who refused to go or were too dangerous to be corralled without risking danger to the world or to humanity, the Dark-Hunters were more akin to assassins for the gods.

  Pausing in front of Savitar, Acheron arched a quizzical brow. “Question. Who locked my Huntress in a cave?”

  Kalder raised his hand. “That would be me, but she’s free to leave at any time. I only did it to protect her from the sunlight.”

  “Then I won’t kill you.” Acheron made a sharp turn back toward Savitar and Thorn. “And you two idiots … Seriously? We have a major demon infestation, buckling gates, and a Malachai on the loose, and you two are fighting like infants right in the middle of it all?”

  With a perturbed sneer, Savitar crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, you’re not so old, or so big, that I can’t spank you.”

  Sancha raised her hand to volunteer. “Might I have the honor of it? Or I could hold him down if you’d like. If he struggles, all the better, I say.”

  Acheron scoffed at her offer. “Careful, love. My bite is much worse than my bark.”

  She flashed an inviting grin. “Counting on that, love. Definitely counting on that.” She gave him an inviting wink.

  Now it was Thorn’s turn to smirk. “What can I say, old Ack? They were damned for a reason. And some more so than others.”

  Acheron shook his head. “Makes me glad I just have to wrangle Dark-Hunters. And a few stray Dream-Hunters and Were-Hunters.”

  “And I have to wrangle morons.” Savitar gestured at Thorn. “With the lord king of them standing right there in front of us. So I dare you to ask him about the Cyphnian he knowingly sent down to Vine to play with and her friends. Go ahead. I dare you.”

  Acheron went still for about a heartbeat and a half. His eyes rippled red as his black hair fanned out.

  Yet unlike Savitar, he didn’t react.

  Instead, he pressed one finger to his temple as if suppressing a migraine. “Thorn … tell me you had a good reason for what you did.”

  He gestured toward Kalder. “Have you met said Cyphnian? He’s a hard-headed bastard. Reminds me of someone.” He glanced pointedly at Savitar. “Only he’s a lot more likable. I knew when I sent him there that he wouldn’t stay—that I’d be able to get him out without too much of a fight from the others. Since his kind is so rare, I didn’t think they’d be able to identify his breed. Worst case, was hoping he’d drain the bitch should she be dumb enough to get near him in the interim. Sadly, I miscalculated how long it’d take me to get to him, and Vine’s resourcefulness in finding his brother and using the wanker against us. For that, I apologize.” Thorn cleared his throat pointedly. “To you, Ash. Not to surf-bum.”

  Thorn sighed heavily. “Hindsight, stupid plan. But given that I was in battle at the time, with Michael and Gabriel breathing down my throat and all manner of hell breaking loose, it was the best I could come up with.”

  Savitar finally calmed down. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

  “You didn’t give me a chance, psycho-douche.”

  Acheron held his hand up. “Knock it off, children! With Adarian running loose in the Caribbean, we have enough problems without you two going at each other. Now play nicely, or I’m feeding you both to she who won’t be named.”

  Thorn rolled his eyes, then turned to curse at Kalder. “Of all the islands in all the worlds. You had to land on this one? Really?”

  Kalder shrugged. “I’ve always had bad aim.”

  Zumari laughed at that. Unlike Kalder, the Maasai warrior was renowned for his skills at throwing knives and spears. “No lie to that. You should see him at a spear toss.”

  Growling low in the back of his throat, Thorn faced Mara and Devyl. “How long will it take for you to make a new ship?”

  Mara bit her lip as she considered it. “From scratch? Months. But I could bond with one quickly.” Her amber eyes danced with amusement. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare one just lying about, would you?”

  They all turned toward Acheron. At first he appeared irritated by the fact that they deferred to him, but with a sigh, he resigned himself to it.

  “Frigate or sloop?” he asked the captain.

  Devyl grinned. “First-rate man-o’-war. I’ve always been partial. Besides, me aeromages need the room to maneuver in battle. And me lady doesn’t like to be cramped.”

  Acheron nodded slowly. “All right. I’ll have one docked and ready by dusk.” He jerked his chin at Savitar. “Can you manage to be hospitable until then?”

  “I’d rather be disemboweled. Or better yet, disembowel them.”

  “Sav…”

  He sneered at Acheron. “Don’t give me no lip, twerp. How’d you come by that wonderful pirate coat you’re wearing, again?”

  Acheron gave him a droll stare. “Moral of the story isn’t to draw first blood. It’s to draw last.”

  Savitar rolled his eyes. “Fine. But remember, you owe me. And Thorn owes me twice.”

  “Me?” Thorn groused. “Why do I owe you?”

  “I didn’t eat your little Thornkateers when they showed up on my beach without an invitation.”

  Thorn sputtered in indignation. “Need I remind you that you personally recommended about half of them for my crew? Doesn’t that make them Saviteers?”

  “Or would that be saboteurs?” Belle asked with a wicked gleam in her eye.

  In complete synchronicity with each other, Savitar and Thorn turned their heads to glare at her. And with the same exact grimace of disdain.

  An impressive feat, indeed.

  Bart laughed while William grimaced. “Do those two always argue like an old married couple?”

  “They do,” Acheron said with a sigh. “Be grateful, you’ve only had to listen to them for a few minutes. I’ve had this shite ringing in my ears for thousands of years.”

  Bart scratched at his beard. “And you’re still sane?”

  Acheron shrugged. “That’s a matter of opinion. Besides, sanity’s overrated.”

  “But silence isn’t. So let there be silence on my island. And peace, boys and girls. You can camp in the Omegrion chambers since I doubt the Were-Hunters will be visiting—and they better not be visiting ’cause I can’t take any more creatures here today. There’s a reason I live in seclusion. Means I tend to eat anything that intrudes on it.”

  Savitar growled again. “Acheron, since he apparently has nothing better to do with his immortality than stick his skinny little nose in where it doesn’t belong, can show you where that is, then see about your ship so that you’ll be gone before I finish with my siesta. Thorn will watch ye motley bunch while you’re there, and make sure none of you piss on my rugs.”

  Thorn sputtered. “Excuse me?”

  “I tried to make an excuse for you once and this is what happened. I got stuck with you being a pain in my eternity. So be a good parent and mind your children while I nap. Keep them out of my underwear drawers and off my furniture for the duration of their stay.” And with that, Savitar vanished into thin air.

  Thorn ground his teeth. “Is it too late to summon an angry sea deity and sink this place?”

  Acheron gave him a cocky grin. “I can think of a vicious goddess of destruction who would love to help you out in that de
partment. Especially since she’s not overly fond of him. However, there is one serious downside to releasing her.”

  Will cocked his head. “That is?”

  “End of the world,” the captain answered. “Hence the whole ‘goddess of destruction’ moniker, lad. Goes with the territory.”

  “Mmm,” Acheron concurred. “Much like Sallie’s soul, once she comes out of her container, she’s a little hard to put back in it.”

  “Aye, but the last time she came out, she sank Atlantis.” Thorn glanced about the island. “This is considerably smaller than that. I’m thinking…”

  A bolt of lightning flew at his head.

  Thorn deflected it. “You missed me, Savitar.”

  A coconut hit him in the back so hard that it left him facedown in the sand.

  “No, I didn’t.” The disembodied voice was plain and clearly Savitar’s.

  “I seriously hate you, Chthonian.”

  With no comment on that—or help, either—Acheron led the Deadmen toward Savitar’s hall that stood on a hill in the center of the island.

  Kalder stayed on the beach with Cameron.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “A bad feeling in me gut, is all. I just can’t seem to shake it.”

  She nodded as she scanned the horizon. “I feel it, too.”

  It wasn’t just about his brother. Or hers. There was something more. Something he couldn’t name. Only sense. And that made this all the worse.

  Not sure about much of anything other than the desperate need he had to keep her safe, Kalder took her hand into his and placed his mother’s ring on her finger.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I know nothing of me real and true mother. But if what the captain said about her and this ring was the truth, I want you to have this.”

  “What if you get into trouble?”

  “I’m always in trouble.” He winked at her. “There’s never anything new to that, love. You know me. But I want you to have some way to protect yourself.” Kalder brushed her damp hair away from her cheek and smiled at her wilted state. “Did I tell you earlier how beautiful you are?”

  She snorted. “On with you, love. You’re such a dashing liar with those honeyed words and sweet tongue. Think you I don’t know what a mess I be right now? Look like something the cat hacked up on the floor and scattered about a bit, I do.”