Kyrian smiled as he recalled the lonely nights he had spent with his Dark-Hunter brothers and sisters on-line. "Tell the Viking not to worry. I'll sneak up every now and again and challenge him."
Acheron took a drink of his champagne. "So, what are you going to do with your short life?"
Kyrian watched Amanda grab three-year-old Niklos up and dance with him. She was going to make a wonderful mother someday. "I'm going to live it. Happily."
Nick had his hands in his pants pockets. "Guess I have to start looking for another Dark-Hunter to serve..." He looked meaningfully at Talon.
"Like hell, Gator bait, don't cast those eyes at me. I don't have Kyrian's patience. Besides, there's only enough room in my cabin for me and my computer."
"Don't worry," Ash assured Nick. "I'll find you someone to serve."
Nick looked horrified. "Please don't do me any favors. I have visions of you sending me up to Alaska to serve Zarek's psycho ass."
Kyrian laughed until Amanda rejoined them with a severe frown on her face.
"What is it, baby?" he asked.
"There's, um ... a, um..."
The men looked at her expectantly.
"Yes?" Kyrian prompted.
"There's a fleet of UPS trucks in the driveway."
The men exchanged puzzled looks before they all headed out to the front of the house where seven UPS trucks were lined up.
One of the drivers approached Kyrian. "Hi," he said in greeting. "I'm looking for a Mr. K. Hunter."
"That would be me," Kyrian said.
"Good. Any idea where you want this stuff?"
"What is all this stuff?"
The driver handed him a clipboard with the names of the people who had sent the items. "Wulf Tryggvason, Zoe, Blade Fitzwalter, Diana Porter, Cael, Brax, Samia, Arien, Kyros, Rogue, Kell, Dragon, Simon, Xander St. James, Alexei Nikolov, Badon Fitzgilbert..." On and on the Dark-Hunter names went.
"You know, Kyrian," Acheron said with a laugh, "you're going to have to buy a bigger house."
"Yeah," Talon said, "but just wait until you have kids. I'll bet you get twice as much as this."
They all burst out laughing.
Amanda stepped into Kyrian's embrace and looked up at him. "I think your Dark-Hunter cohorts are going to miss you. You sure you have no regrets?"
Kyrian kissed her lightly on the cheek. "None whatsoever. You?"
"Never."
Acheron watched as the two newlyweds headed into the house arm in arm.
"Wanna bet where they're going?" Talon asked.
Ash laughed. "No bet. I already know." He turned to the driver and told him to leave the gifts in the living room. "I think my wedding gift will be to hire an unpacking crew in the morning."
Nick laughed. "Let me go show them where to stack it so Kyrian doesn't get ticked."
"I'll help," Talon said.
Ash watched Nick run ahead of the drivers with Talon following at a much more conservative pace. He listened to the darkness and to the sounds of the night that he knew so well. He felt a slight stirring behind him.
It was a presence he knew even more intimately than the night.
He drained the last of his champagne. "What are you doing here, Artie? I wasn't aware you had an invitation."
A long, gracefully tapered hand touched his shoulder. Even through the tuxedo, he could feel the warmth of her as she caressed him. Unearthly tall and statuesque, she moved like a sleek, sensuous wind. Soft. Elegant.
And capable of total destruction when stirred too vigorously.
"I'm a goddess," she spoke, her Greek accent smooth and cultured. "I don't need an invitation."
Acheron turned his head to see Artemis standing to his left. Her rich light auburn hair glowed in the moonlight and her iridescent green eyes sparkled.
"I hope you've come to wish them well," he said.
She glanced askance at him as she toyed idly with his newly dyed black hair. A sly smile curved her perfect lips. "I do. But the real question is, do you?"
Ash stiffened at the implication. "What kind of question is that? You know I do."
"Just checking to make sure that little green-eyed monster wasn't making you have second thoughts."
He narrowed his gaze at her. "The only green-eyed monster I know is you."
She sucked her breath in sharply at his words, but her smile never wavered. "Oooo," she crooned in a sexually charged tone. "Acheron is getting nasty in his old age." She leaned her chin to rest on his shoulder as she stroked his jaw with a well-manicured fingernail. "It's a good thing I like you, otherwise you'd be baked bread."
He sighed. "Yeah, lucky me. By the way, the correct term is 'toast.'"
Artemis could never keep track of colloquial slang, yet she seemed to enjoy using it. Or misusing it, anyway. There were times he suspected she did it on purpose just to see if he would dare to correct her.
"Mmmm," she said, playfully wrapping her arms around his waist. "I like it when you get all feisty."
Acheron stepped away from her. "So who are you transferring to New Orleans to take over Kyrian's spot?"
She licked her lips impishly and mischief glowed in her eyes. But before she could answer, Julian approached them.
"Little Cousin Artemis," he said in greeting.
"Julian of Macedon," she said coldly. "Didn't know you were here."
"Same."
"Well," Acheron said. "Nice to know no introductions are needed."
Artemis passed a threatening glare to Julian. "Yes, well, I wish I could stay, but I can't."
Before she vanished, she leaned forward and whispered the answer in Acheron's ear.
He went cold with the news as she twinkled into mist.
There were times when Artemis could be the biggest bitch on the planet.
Julian cocked a brow at him. "What did she say?"
"Nothing." The last thing Acheron wanted was to drop that bomb on Julian and Kyrian. And he certainly wasn't going to do it in the middle of a wedding.
He turned to Julian. "So, General, you have your best friend back. I'll wager the two of you are going to get into some serious trouble."
Julian laughed. "Not likely."
Somehow Acheron had a hard time believing that. Just as he had a hard time believing that Artemis would leave well enough alone.
EPILOGUE
Amanda brushed Kyrian's hair back from his face as she kissed his lips. Her wedding dress and his tuxedo were piled in a heap on the floor while they were tangled in the silk bedsheets.
"We're being awfully rude, aren't we?" she asked.
Kyrian smiled. "Yeah, but I like rudeness."
She laughed. Then he kissed her and she forgot everything else in the world.
"So, tell me," he asked as he nibbled below her ear with his human teeth. "Do you miss being an accountant?"
"Not at all. You?"
"I never was an accountant."
She nipped his nose. "You know what I mean. Do you miss being a Dark-Hunter?"
He licked her ear, sending chills over her. "At times, yes. But I'd rather have you."
"Do you really mean that?"
He pulled back to look into her eyes. "With every piece of my heart and soul."
"Good," she whispered, kissing him. "Because now that you're mortal again, the baby and I need you to be careful."
Kyrian froze. "What?"
She smiled down at him. "We're pregnant, Mr. Hunter. About six weeks along."
Kyrian kissed her deeply and held her close in his arms. "That, Mrs. Hunter, is the best news I've ever heard."
Amanda cupped his face in her hands. "I love you, Kyrian of Thrace. And I never want to lose you."
"I love you, Amanda Devereaux-Hunter, and I swear to you, you never will."
Amanda kissed him again, knowing for the first time in her life that there really was such a thing as happily ever after. Even if it did mean marrying a vampire.
Read on for an excerpt from Night Embrace
AVAILABLE FROM ST. MARTIN'S PAPERBACKS
Talon woke up to find his arm on fire.
Hissing, he jerked his hand away from the sunlight that was streaming in through the window, across an extremely pink bed. He pushed himself back against the white wicker headboard to avoid any more of his body from coming into contact with the deadly rays.
He blew cool air across his hand, but still it burned and ached.
Where the hell was he?
For the first time in centuries, he felt a wave of uncertainty run through him.
Talon was never out of his element. Never out of control. His entire life was one of extreme balance and moderation.
Never in his Dark-Hunter existence had he found himself unsure or confounded.
But right now, he had no idea where he was, the time of day, or who the women were he heard on the other side of the pink drapes.
Squinting against the bright sunlight that painfully pierced his eyes, he looked around the odd room and realized he was trapped between two open windows. His heart hammered. There was no safe way off the bed. The only direction he could go was to his left and into the corner that was occupied by a frothy pink nightstand.
Damn.
Through the pounding pain in his head, the night before came flooding back to him with stunning clarity. The attack.
The woman ...
The great big whatever slamming into him.
Though his body ached and was sore, his Dark-Hunter powers had allowed him to heal while he slept. In a few hours, even the soreness would be gone.
Until then, he needed out of this death trap of sunlight. Closing his eyes, Talon willed a dark cloud to cover the sun so that the bright daylight would no longer play havoc with his eyesight.
If he wanted to, he could summon enough clouds to turn the day sky as dark as night. But it wouldn't do him any good.
Daylight was still daylight.
His unique Dark-Hunter powers gave him a great deal of control over the elements, weather and healing, but not control over Apollo's domain. Light or dark, the daytime still belonged to Apollo, and even though Apollo was technically retired, the Greek god would never tolerate a Dark-Hunter walking about on his shift.
If Apollo caught sight of him outside or near a window during the light of day, Talon would be nothing more than a strip of fried bacon on the sidewalk.
Extra-crispy Celt didn't appeal to him in the least.
His eyes no longer burning, Talon started to leave the bed, then paused. There was nothing between him and the patchouli-and turpentine-scented sheets.
What's happened to my clothes? He was quite sure he hadn't undressed himself last night.
Had they...?
He frowned as he searched his memory. No, it wasn't possible. If he'd been awake enough to have sex with her, he would have been awake enough to leave this place long before sunup.
"Where is it?"
He looked up at hearing the unfamiliar voice on the other side of the pink tie-dyed fabric, which was hung to form a wall around the bed.
Two seconds later, the fabric slid open to reveal an attractive woman who appeared to be in her late thirties. Her long black hair was pulled into a thick braid and she wore a long flowing black skirt and tunic.
She looked remarkably similar to the woman he'd met last night. And at first glance, she would be easy to mistake for her younger counterpart.
"Hey, Sunshine, your friend's awake. What's his name?"
"I don't know, Starla. I didn't ask."
Oh, but this is getting stranger and stranger.
Unperturbed by his presence, the woman walked into the room to the side of the bed where the nightstand stood. "You look like a Steve," she said as she bent down, lifted up the pink scarves, and started digging through a stack of magazines that was hidden beneath it. "Are you hungry, Steve?"
Before he could answer, she raised her voice. "It's not here."
"It's under the old copies of Art Papers."
"It's not here."
Sunshine entered the room. Walking with the grace of a fairy princess, she wore a long-sleeved purple dress so bright, he had to squint from the hue. As she crossed in front of the window, he realized the material was rather sheer, gifting him with a pleasant view of her lush, ample curves and the fact that she wore nothing beneath that dress.
Nothing except her tanned skin.
His throat went dry.
She was wiping paint from her hands with a towel as she moved to the nightstand without even glancing his way.
"It's right here," she said, pulling out a magazine and handing it to the older woman.
Finally, Sunshine looked to the bed and met his gaze. "Are you hungry?"
"Where are my clothes?"
She cast a sheepish look at Starla. "Did you ask his name?"
"It's Steve."
"It's not Steve."
Sunshine paid him no attention as she turned Starla to face him. Both women stared at him lying there on the bed as if he were some inanimate curiosity.
Talon moved the pink sheet up higher over his waist. Then, suddenly self-conscious, he moved his bare leg under the cover as well, and bent his knee so that the center part of his body wasn't quite so obvious underneath the thin cotton.
Still the two women stared at him.
"You see what I was telling you?" Sunshine asked. "Does he not have the most incredible aura you've ever seen?"
"He's definitely an old soul. With Druid blood. I'm sure of it."
"You think?" Sunshine asked.
"Oh, yeah. We need to talk him into letting us do a past-life regression and see what we come up with."
Okay, they were both nuts.
"Women," he said sharply. "I need my clothes, and I need them now."
"See," Sunshine said. "See the way his aura changes. It's absolutely living."
"You know, I've never seen that before. It's really different." Then Starla drifted out of the room as she flipped through the magazine.
Sunshine was still wiping paint off her hands. "Hungry?"
How did she do that? How could she shift from one topic to the other and then back again?
"No," he said, trying to keep her on the main point. "I want my clothes."
She actually cringed. "What happened to the tags in your pants?"
Talon frowned at the odd question. He was keeping a rein on his irritation and temper, but something about being around this woman made it difficult. "I beg your pardon?"
"Well, you know they were covered in blood..."
A bad feeling settled into his stomach. "And?"
"I was going to clean them, and--"
"Oh shit, you washed them?"
"It wasn't the washing that damaged them so much as the drying."
"You dried my leather pants?"
"Well, I didn't know they were leather," she said softly. "They felt really soft and strange so I thought they were pleather or something. I wash my pleather dress all the time without it disintegrating and shrinking like your pants did."
Talon rubbed his forehead with his hand. This was so not good. How on earth could he get out of her apartment in the middle of the day with no clothes on?
"You know," she continued, "you really shouldn't cut the tags out of your clothes."
It had been a long time since he had felt real, deep aggravation, but he was starting to feel it now. "Those were custom, handmade leather pants. They never have tags."
"Oh," she said, looking even more sheepish. "I would have bought you some more, but since they didn't have tags in them, I didn't know what size to buy."
"Great. I live to be stuck in strange places, naked."
She started to smile at him, then pressed her lips together as if thinking better of it. "I have some pink sweatpants that really wouldn't fit you, and even if they did, I'm sure you wouldn't want to wear them anyway, would you?"
"No. Did you wash my wallet too?"
"Oh, no. I took it out of your pants."
"Good. Where is it?"
She became quiet again and a feeling of doomed dread consumed him.
"Do I want to know?" he asked.
"Well..." He was beginning to hate that word since it seemed to portend doom for him and his belongings. "I put it on the washing machine at the Laundromat with your keys, and then I realized that I didn't have change for the washer, so I went to the change machine. I was only gone a second, but when I got back your wallet was gone."
Talon grimaced. "And my keys?"
"Well, you know when you wash just one thing it unbalances the machine? Your keys ended up getting jarred off the top of it and they went down a small drain."
"Didn't you get them back?"
"I tried, but I couldn't reach them. I had three other people try, but they're gone too."
Talon sat in stunned disbelief. Worse, he couldn't even get mad at her since she'd only been trying to help him. But he really, really wanted to be mad.
"I have no money, no pants, no keys. Do I still have my jacket?"
"Yes, it's safe. And I saved your Snoopy Pez dispenser from the washer too. And your boots and knife thing are right here," she said, holding them up from the floor by the bed.
Talon nodded, feeling strangely relieved by the knowledge that she hadn't destroyed everything he'd had on him last night. Thank the gods his motorcycle had been left by the Brewery. He shuddered to think what she might have done to it. "Is there a phone I can use?"
"In the kitchen."
"Could you please bring it to me?"
"It's not cordless. I always lose those things or I drop them someplace and break them. The last one I had ended up drowning in the toilet."
Talon looked uneasily at the woman and the faint sunlight in the room. He wondered which one of them was the most lethal to him.
"Would you mind pulling down the shades?" he asked.
She frowned. "Does the sunlight bother you?"
"I'm allergic to it," he said, falling into the lie Dark-Hunters used when caught in similar situations.
Although he doubted if any Dark-Hunter had ever found himself in a situation similar to this one.
"Really? I've never known anyone allergic to sunlight before."
"Well, I am."
"So you're like a vampire?"
The word hit just a little too close to home. "Not exactly."
She moved to the window, but when she pulled the shade down, it fell.
Gray sunlight spilled across the bed.
With a curse, Talon shot into the corner, narrowly missing the pale sunbeams.
"Sunshine, I..." Starla's voice broke off as she entered the room and caught sight of him standing naked in the corner. She eyed him in an odd, detached way, as if he were an interesting piece of furniture.
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