The Dark-Hunters (167 page)

The gods went to the Atlantean queen whose son’s birth was imminent. As predicted, the moon eclipsed the sun as she struggled to give birth, and when her son was born, Archon demanded the baby be slain.

The queen wept and begged for Apollo to aid her. Surely her lover wouldn’t see his own son killed by the older gods.

But Apollo ignored her and she watched helplessly as her newborn son was slain before her eyes.

What the queen didn’t know was that Apollo had already been told what was going to happen and it wasn’t his son she bore, but another child he had switched in her womb to save his own.

With the help of his sister, Artemis, Apollo had taken his son home to Delphi where the boy was raised among Apollo’s priestesses.

As the years passed and Apollo failed to return to the Atlantean queen to father another heir, her hatred of him grew. She despised the Greek god who couldn’t be bothered to give her a child to replace the one she had lost.

Twenty-one years after she had witnessed the sacrifice of her only child, the queen learned of another child fathered by the Greek god Apollo.

This one was born to a Greek princess who had been given to the god as an offering in hopes of swaying the god’s benediction toward the Greeks, who were at war with the Atlanteans.

As soon as the news reached the queen, her bitterness swelled deep inside until the tide of it overwhelmed her.

She summoned her own priestess to ask where the heir to her empire would be found.

“The heir to Atlantis resides in the house of Aricles.”

The same house where Apollo’s new infant son had been born.

The queen screamed in outrage at the proclamation, knowing Apollo had betrayed his own children. They were forgotten while he forged a new race to replace them.

Calling out her personal guards, the queen sent them off to Greece, to make sure that Apollo’s mistress and child were killed. She would never allow either of them to sit on her beloved throne.

“Make sure to rip them apart so that the Greeks will believe it was done by a wild animal. I want nothing to make them look to our shores for this.”

But as with all acts of vengeance, this one, too, was uncovered.

Heartbroken, Apollo, without thought, cursed all of his once chosen race. “A plague to all who are Apollite born. May you reap all you have sown this day. None of you shall ever live past the age of my precious Ryssa. You shall all perish painfully on the day of your twenty-seventh birthday. Because you acted as animals, you shall become them. Let you find your nourishment solely in the blood of your own kind. And never again will you be able to walk in my realm where I will see you and be forced to remember what it is that you did to betray me.”

It wasn’t until the curse was spoken that Apollo remembered his own son back in Delphi. A son he had foolishly damned along with the others.

For once spoken, such things can never be undone.

But more than that, he had sown the seeds for his own destruction. On his son’s wedding day to Apollo’s most treasured high-priestess, Apollo had entrusted his son with everything in life he valued.

“In your hands, you hold my future. Your blood is mine and it is through you and your future children that I live.”

With those binding words, and in one fit of anger, Apollo had damned himself to extinction. For once his son’s bloodline died, so then would Apollo and with him the sun itself.

You see, Apollo isn’t just a god. He is the essence of the sun and holds in his hands the balance of the universe.

On the day Apollo dies, so dies the earth and all who dwell here.

Now the year is
A.D
. 2003 and there is only one Apollite child left who bears the blood of the ancient god …

Chapter 1

February 2003
St. Paul, Minnesota

“Oh, honey,
major
stud alert. Three o’clock.”

Cassandra Peters laughed at Michelle Avery’s lust-filled tone as she turned in the crowded bar to see an average-looking, dark-haired man facing the stage where their favorite local band, Twisted Hearts, played.

Swaying to the music’s beat as she sipped her Long Island Iced Tea, Cassandra studied him for a minute. “He’s a
Milk
Man,” she decided after a thorough scan of his “attributes” that comprised his looks, his carriage, and his lumberjack attire.

Michelle shook her head. “No, ma’am, he’s a
Cracker
for sure.”

Cassandra smiled at their rating system, which hinged on what they wouldn’t toss a man out of bed for. Milk Man meant he was attractive in an unusual way and could bring a glass of milk to bed anytime. Crackers were one step up, and Cookies were gods.

But the ultimate in masculine desirability rated a Powdered Donut. Not only was a powdered donut messy, it violated their perpetual diet mentality and begged a woman to bite into it.

To date, none of them had ever met a Powdered Donut in the flesh. Still, they were ever hopeful.

Michelle tapped Brenda and Kat on their shoulders and inconspicuously pointed to the man she was eyeballing. “Cookie?”

Kat shook her head. “Cracker.”

“Definitely Cracker,” Brenda confirmed.

“Oh, what do you know? You have a steady boyfriend,” Michelle said to Brenda as the band finished their song and took a break. “Jeez, you guys are tough critics.”

Cassandra looked back at the guy, who was talking to his buddy and drinking a longneck beer. He didn’t make her heart pound, but then very few men did. Even so, he had an easy, open manner and a nice, friendly smile. She could see why Michelle liked him.

“Why would you care what we think anyway?” she asked Michelle. “If you like him, then go up and introduce yourself.”

Michelle was horrified. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Cassandra asked.

“What if he thinks I’m fat or ugly?”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. Michelle was a very thin brunette who was a far cry from ugly. “Life is short, Michelle. Too short. For all you know, he might be the man of your dreams, but if you stay back here, drooling and not acting, you’ll never know.”

“God,” Michelle breathed, “how I envy you that live-for-today attitude. But I can’t.”

Cassandra grabbed her by the hand and hauled her through the crowd, over to the man.

She tapped him on the shoulder.

Startled, he turned around.

His eyes widened as he looked up at Cassandra. At six feet one, she was used to being a freak of nature. To his credit, the guy didn’t appear offended by the fact that she was a good two inches taller than him.

He looked down at Michelle, who was a normal five feet four.

“Hi,” Cassandra said, drawing his gaze back to her. “I’m taking a quick survey. Are you married?”

He frowned. “No.”

“Seeing someone?”

He passed a puzzled look to his friend. “No.”

“Gay?”

His jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“Cassandra!” Michelle snapped.

She ignored both of them and held tight to Michelle’s hand as her friend tried to run away. “You like women, yes?”

“Yes,” he said, sounding offended.

“Good, because my friend Michelle here thinks you’re exceptionally cute and she’d like to meet you.” She pulled Michelle between them. “Michelle, this is…”

He smiled as he met Michelle’s stunned gaze. “Tom Cody.”

“Tom Cody,” Cassandra repeated. “Tom, this is Michelle.”

“Hi,” he said, extending his hand to her.

From Michelle’s expression, Cassandra could tell her friend wasn’t sure if she should strangle her or thank her.

“Hi,” Michelle said, shaking his hand.

Assured that they were semicompatible and that he didn’t bite on the first date, Cassandra left them and headed back to Brenda and Kat, both of whom had their mouths hanging wide open as they stared at her in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you just did that to her,” Kat said as soon as Cassandra rejoined them. “She’s going to kill you later.”

Brenda cringed. “If you ever do that to me, I
will
kill you.”

Kat draped an arm over Brenda’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate hug. “You can yell at her all you want to, hon, but I can’t let
you
kill her.”

Brenda laughed at Kat’s comment, not knowing that Kat spoke from her heart. She was Cassandra’s covert bodyguard and had been with her for five years now. A record. Most of Cassandra’s bodyguards had a job expectancy of about eight months.

They either ended up dead or quitting the minute they caught a look at exactly who and what was after her. To their way of thinking, not even the exorbitant amount of money her father paid them to keep her alive was worth the risk.

But not Kat. She had more tenacity and chutzpah than anyone Cassandra had ever met. Not to mention the fact that Kat was the only woman Cassandra had ever known who was actually taller than her. At six feet four, and stunningly beautiful, Kat made quite an entrance everywhere she went. Her blond hair hung just past her shoulders and she had eyes so green they didn’t look real.

“You know,” Brenda said to Cassandra as she watched Tom and Michelle talking and laughing. “I would give anything to have your confidence. Do you ever doubt yourself?”

Cassandra answered truthfully. “All the time.”

“You never show it.”

That’s because, unlike her companions, there was more than just a slim chance Cassandra might only have another eight months left to live. She couldn’t afford to be scared or timid of life. Her motto was to grab everything by both hands, and run with it.

Then again, she’d been running all her life. Running from those who would kill her if they had a chance.

But most of all, she’d been running from her destiny, hoping that somehow, some way, she could avert the inevitable.

Even though she’d traveled the world since she was six years old, she was no closer to discovering the truth about her heritage than her mother had been before her.

Still, with every day that dawned, she was hopeful. Hopeful that someone would tell her that her life didn’t have to end on her twenty-seventh birthday. Hopeful that she would be able to stay someplace for more than a few months or even days.

“Hub-ba!” Brenda said, her eyes wide as she looked toward the entrance. “I think I just found our cookies! And ladies, there are
three
of them.”

Laughing at her awed tone, Cassandra turned around to see three incredibly sexy men entering the club. They were all well over six feet in height, golden in skin and hair, and drop-dead gorgeous.

Her laughter died instantly as she felt a horrible, stinging tingle run through her. It was a sensation she was all too familiar with.

And it was one that branded terror into her heart.

Dressed in expensive sweaters, jeans, and ski jackets, the three men scanned the bar’s occupants like the deadly predators they were. Cassandra trembled. The people in the bar had no idea how much danger they were in.

None of them.

Oh, dear God …

“Hey, Cass,” Brenda said. “Go introduce me to
them.
”

Cassandra shook her head as she made eye contact with Kat to warn her. She tried to herd Brenda away from the men and out of their dark, hungry sight. “They’re bad news, Bren.
Really
bad news.”

The one virtue of being half Apollite was her ability to spot others of her mother’s kind. And something in her gut told her the men walking through the crowd, scanning women with seductive smiles, were no longer simple Apollites.

They were Daimons—a vicious breed of Apollite who chose to prolong their short lives by killing humans and stealing their souls.

Their unique, powerful Daimon charisma and their hunger for souls bled from every pore of their bodies.

They were here for victims.

Cassandra swallowed her panic. She had to find some way to get out of here before they got too close to her and discovered who she really was.

She reached for the small handgun in her purse, and looked for an escape.

“Out the back,” Kat said, pulling her toward the rear of the club.

“What’s going on?” Brenda asked.

Suddenly, the tallest of the Daimons stopped dead in his tracks.

He turned to face them.

His steely eyes narrowed on Cassandra with intense interest and she could feel him trying to penetrate her mind. She blocked his intrusion, but it was too late.

He grabbed his friends’ arms and inclined his head toward them.

Damn. This sucked.

Literally.

With the bar’s crowd, she couldn’t open fire on them and neither could Kat. The hand grenades were in the car and she had opted to leave her daggers under the seat.

“Now would be a good time to tell me you have your sais with you, Kat.”

“Nada. You got your kamas on you?”

“Yeah,” she said sarcastically, thinking of her weapons that looked like small handheld scythes. “I tucked them into my bra before I left home.”

She felt Kat force something cold into her hand. Looking down, she saw the closed uchiwa fighting fan. Made of steel, the fan was sharpened on one side so that it was as dangerous as a Ginsu knife. Folded up and only eleven inches long, it looked like an innocuous Japanese folding fan, but in the hands of either Kat or Cassandra, it was lethal.

Cassandra tightened her grip on the fan as Kat pulled her toward the stage where there was a fire exit. She drifted back into the crowd near the exit, away from the Daimons, and away from Brenda before she endangered her by being close to her when the Daimons struck.

She cursed both their heights as she realized there was no way to hide. No way to keep the Daimons from seeing them even in this heavy crowd when she and Kat stood so tall against everyone else.

Kat stopped dead in her tracks as another tall, blond man cut off their escape.

Two seconds later, all hell broke loose on their side of the club as they both became aware that there were more than just three Daimons in the bar.

There were at least a dozen of them.

Kat shoved Cassandra toward the exit, then kicked the Daimon back, into a group of people who shouted and shrieked at the disturbance.