The Dark-Hunters (178 page)

Wulf looked at Kat suspiciously. There was no reason for them to leave. They had been winning the fight.

For the first time in his life, he had actually felt a momentary doubt in his ability to defeat them.

Corbin came up to them. “Did you get any of them?”

Wulf shook his head, wondering when Corbin had returned. He hadn’t even noticed the drain on his powers but then, given the way the Spathis were kicking his ass, it was no wonder.

Corbin rubbed her shoulder as if she’d been injured in the fighting. “Neither did I.”

The impact of that statement wasn’t lost on either of them.

The two of them turned to Cassandra.

“They were after you?” Wulf asked.

Cassandra looked extremely uncomfortable.

“You see to Dante and his crew,” Wulf told Corbin. “I’ll handle this one.”

Corbin headed off while Wulf turned back to the women. “How can you remember me?”

But then the answer was so obvious that he already knew. “You’re Apollite, aren’t you?” She damn sure wasn’t a Were-Hunter. They had an unmistakable aura to them.

Cassandra dropped her gaze to the floor as she whispered, “Half.”

He cursed. It figured. “So you’re the Apollite heiress they have to kill to lift their curse?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you’ve been fucking with my dreams? You thought I’d protect you?”

Offended, she raked him with a furious glare. “I haven’t been doing anything to you, bud. You’re the one who’s been coming to me.”

Oh, that was a good one. “Yeah, right. Well, it didn’t work. My job is to kill your kind, not protect you. You’re on your own, princess.”

He turned and stalked away.

Cassandra was torn between the desire to slap him and to cry.

Instead, she went after him and pulled him to a stop. “Just for the record, I don’t need
you
or anyone else to protect me, and the last thing I would do is ask the Satan of my people to help me. You’re nothing but a killer and not a bit better than the Daimons you hunt. At least they still have their souls.”

His face hardening, Wulf jerked his arm free of her grasp and left.

Cassandra wanted to scream at the way this had turned out. And it was then she realized some part of herself had actually started to like him. He’d been so tender in her dreams.

Kind.

So much for her thoughts of asking him about her people. He wasn’t the same man she’d dreamed about. He was horrible in the flesh. Horrible!

She looked about the club where tables were overturned and the Katagaria were trying to clean up the mess.

What a nightmare all of this had turned into.

“C’mon,” Kat said. “Let’s get you home before those Daimons come back.”

Yes, she wanted to go home. She wanted to forget this night had ever occurred and if Wulf came to her tonight …

Well, if he thought the Spathis were tough on him, he hadn’t seen tough.

*   *   *

Stryker left his men in the hall and went to see Apollymi. He alone of the Spathis was allowed in her presence.

Her temple was the grandest building in all of Kalosis. The black marble glistened even in the dim light of their netherworld. Inside, the temple was guarded by a pair of vicious ceredons—creatures with the head of a dog, the body of a dragon, and the tail of a scorpion. The two of them snarled at him, but stayed back. They had learned long ago that Stryker was one of four beings the Destroyer allowed to come near her.

He found his mother in her sitting room with two of her Charonte demons flanking her couch. Xedrix, her own personal guard, was to her right. His skin was navy blue in color, his eyes vibrant yellow. Black horns stood out from his equally blue hair and his wings were a deep blood red. He stood unmoving with one hand near the Destroyer’s shoulder.

The other demon was of a lesser order, but for some reason his mother favored Sabina. She had long, green hair that complemented her yellow skin. Her eyes were the same color as her hair and her horns and wings an odd deep shade of orange.

The demons watched him closely, but neither moved nor spoke while his mother sat as if lost in thought.

Her windows were open, looking out onto a garden where only black flowers grew, in memory of his dead brother. The Destroyer’s other son had perished untold centuries ago and to this day she mourned his death.

Just as she rejoiced in Stryker’s continued life.

Her long white-blond hair fell around her in waves of perfection. Even though she was older than time, Apollymi had the face of a beautiful young woman in her mid-twenties. Her black gauzy gown blended into the black of her couch, making it hard to see where one ended and the other began.

She was motionless as she stared outside, holding a black satin pillow in her lap. “They are trying to liberate me.”

He paused at her words. “Who?”

“Those stupid Greeks. They think I will side with them in gratitude.” She laughed bitterly.

Stryker smiled wryly at the very thought. His mother hated the Greek pantheon zealously. “Will they succeed?”

“No. The Elekti will stop them. As he always does.” She turned her head to look at him. Her pale, pale eyes had no color. Ice glittered on her eyelashes and her translucent skin was iridescent, giving her a delicate, fragile appearance. But there was nothing fragile about the Destroyer.

She was as her name declared, destruction. She had consigned every member of her family to the death realm from where they would never return.

Her power was absolute and it was only through betrayal that she had ended up imprisoned here in Kalosis, where she could see the human world, but not participate in it. Stryker and his fellow Daimons could use the bolt-holes to come and go out of this realm, but she could not.

Not until the seal of Atlantis was broken, and Stryker had no idea how to do it. Apollymi had never disclosed that to him.

“Why did you not kill the heiress?” she asked.

“The Abadonna opened the portal.”

Again his mother was so still as to not appear real. After several seconds, she laughed. The sound was soft and gentle, ringing through the air like music.

“Good one, Artemis,” she said out loud. “You’re learning. But it won’t save you or that scabby brother you protect.” She pushed herself up from her couch, put the pillow down, and walked over to Stryker. “Were you hurt,
m’gios?
”

He always felt a rush of warmth whenever she referred to him as her son. “No.”

Xedrix moved to whisper into the Destroyer’s ear.

“No,” she said out loud. “The Abadonna is not to be touched. She has torn loyalties and I will not take advantage of her kind nature, unlike some goddesses I can name. She is innocent in this and I will not have her punished for it.”

The Destroyer drummed two fingers on her chin. “The question is, what is that bitch Artemis planning?”

She closed her eyes. “Katra,” she breathed, calling out to the Abadonna.

After a few seconds, Apollymi let out a disgusted noise. “She refuses to answer … Fine,” she said in a voice Stryker knew could transcend this realm and be heard by Katra. “Protect Artemis and Apollo’s heiress if you must. But know you can’t stop me. No one can.”

She turned back to Stryker. “We will have to separate Katra from the heiress.”

“How? If the Abadonna continues to open the portal, we are powerless. You know we must step through it whenever it opens.”

The Destroyer laughed again. “Life is a chess game, Strykerius, haven’t you learned that yet? Whenever you move to protect the pawns, you leave your queen open to attack.”

“Meaning?”

“The Abadonna can’t be everywhere at once. If you can’t get to the heiress, then attack something else the Abadonna cares for.”

He smiled at that. “I was so hoping you would say that.”

Chapter 6

Cassandra was so angry that she didn’t know what to do. Actually, she did. But that involved having Wulf tied up in a room and her having a very large broom in her hands to beat him with.

Or better yet, a stick with thorns!

Unfortunately, it would take more than her and Kat to tie up the obnoxious oaf.

As Kat drove her back to her apartment, she fought against screaming and railing at the imbecile who had all the compassion of a leek pea.

She hadn’t realized just how much she had opened herself up to the Wulf of her dreams. How much of herself she had given to him. She had never been the kind of woman to trust anyone, least of all a man. Yet she had welcomed him into her heart and body.

How much more—

She paused her silent tirade as her thoughts shifted.

Wait …

He remembered their dreams too.

He had accused her of trying to—

“Why didn’t I think of that while we were at the club?” Cassandra asked out loud.

“Think of what?”

She looked over at Kat, whose face was illuminated by the light of the dashboard. “Do you remember what Wulf said in the bar? He remembered me from his dreams and I remember him from mine. Do you think our dreams could be real?”

“Wulf was at the bar?” Kat asked as she frowned at Cassandra. “The Dark-Hunter you’ve been dreaming about was there tonight? When?”

“Didn’t you see him?” Cassandra countered. “He came right up to us after the fight and yelled at me for being an Apollite.”

“The only person who came right up to us was the Daimon.”

Cassandra opened her mouth to correct her, then remembered what Wulf had said about people forgetting him. Good grief, whatever it was had made her bodyguard completely forget him too.

“Okay,” she said, trying again. “Forget about Wulf being there and let’s go back to the other question. Do you think the dreams I’ve been having could be real? Maybe some kind of alternate consciousness or something?”

Kat snorted. “Five years ago I didn’t think vampires were real. You’ve shown me differently. Honey, given your freaky life, I would say most anything is possible.”

True. “Yeah, but I’ve never heard of anyone who could do this.”

“I don’t know. Remember that thing we saw online about the Dream-Hunters earlier today? They can infiltrate dreams. You think they could have had something to do with this?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. But the Dream-Hunter.com site said that they infiltrated dreams themselves. It didn’t have anything on there about them putting two people together in a dream.”

“Yeah, but if they are sleep gods, it only stands to reason they could put two people together in their own domain.”

“What are you saying, Kat?”

“I’m just saying maybe you know Wulf better than you think you do. Maybe every dream you’ve had with him
has
been real.”

*   *   *

Wulf had no real destination in mind as he drove through St. Paul. All he could focus on was Cassandra and the betrayal he felt.

“It figures,” he snarled. All this time and he had finally found an eligible woman to remember him only to have her turn out to be an Apollite—the only kind of woman who was completely taboo for him to interact with.

“I’m such an idiot.”

His phone rang. Wulf picked it up and answered it.

“What happened?”

He flinched as he heard Acheron Parthenopaeus’s thickly accented voice on the other end. Anytime Ash became really angry, he reverted to his Atlantean accent.

Wulf decided to play ignorant. “What?”

“I just got a call from Dante about the attack tonight in his club. What exactly went down?”

Wulf let out a tired breath. “I don’t know. A bolt-hole opened and a group of Daimons came out. The leader of them had black hair, by the way. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s not his natural hair color. Trust me. Stryker discovered L’Oréal a while back.”

Wulf pulled off the road as that tidbit went through him like a hot-bladed knife. “You know this guy?”

Acheron didn’t respond. “I need you and Corbin to pull back from Stryker and his men.”

There was something in Acheron’s tone that made Wulf’s blood run cold. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear he heard real warning there. “He’s just a Daimon, Ash.”

“No he’s not and he doesn’t come out to feed like the others.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story. Look, I can’t leave New Orleans right now. I’ve got enough shit to deal with down here, which is probably why Stryker is pulling his crap now. He knows I’m distracted.”

“Yeah, well, don’t worry about it. I’ve never met a Daimon yet I couldn’t take.”

Acheron made a noise of disagreement. “Guess again, little brother. You just met one, and trust me, he’s not like any you’ve ever met before. He makes Desiderius look like a pet hamster.”

Wulf sat back in his seat as traffic raced by him. There was definitely something more to this than Acheron was spilling. Of course, the man was good at that. Acheron kept secrets from all the Dark-Hunters and never revealed any personal information about himself.

Enigmatic, cocky, and powerful, Acheron was the oldest of the Dark-Hunters and the one they all turned to for information and advice. For two thousand years, Acheron had fought the Daimons all alone without any other Dark-Hunters. Hell, the man had been around since before the Daimons had even been created.

Ash knew things they could only guess at. And right now, Wulf needed some answers.

“How come you know so much about this one when you didn’t know much about Desiderius?” Wulf asked.

As expected, Ash didn’t answer. “The panthers said you were with a woman tonight. Cassandra Peters.”

“You know her too?”

Again Ash ignored the question. “I need you to protect her.”

“Bullshit,” Wulf snapped, angered over the fact that he already felt used by her. The last thing he wanted was to give her another shot at messing with his head. He’d never liked anyone toying with him, and after the way Morginne had used and betrayed him, the last thing he needed was another woman out to screw him to get what she wanted. “She’s an Apollite.”

“I know what she is and she has to be protected at all costs.”

“Why?”

To his amazement, Acheron actually answered. “Because she holds the fate of the world in her hands, Wulf. If they kill her, Daimons are going to be the very least of our problems.”