The Dark-Hunters (188 page)

He ground his teeth as she gave him the distorted human quote.

When she spoke again, the coldness in her tone only angered him more. “The answer to that is how much do you value your life, Strykerius? I have kept you close all these centuries and I have no desire to see you dead.”

“The Elekti can’t kill me. I am a god.”

“And greater gods than you have fallen. Many of them to my wrath. Heed my words, boy. Heed them well.”

Stryker continued on his way, pausing only long enough to unleash Kyklonas, whose name meant “tornado.” Once unleashed, the ceredon was a deadly menace. Much like Stryker.

*   *   *

It was close to midnight when Wulf’s phone rang again. Answering it, he heard a gruff Greek accent that he didn’t recognize.

“This is Spawn, Viking. You rang a few hundred times while I was gone?”

Wulf ignored the man’s aggravated tone. “Where have you been?”

Spawn’s response came out as a low growling challenge. “Since when the hell do I answer to you? I don’t even know you, hence it’s none of your damned business.”

Well, someone hadn’t taken his personality pills for the night. “Look, I don’t personally have a beef with you, Daimon—”

“I’m an Apollite, Viking.
Big
difference.”

Yeah, right.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.”

“To quote you, Viking,
yeah, right.
”

Holy shit!

“And yes, I heard that too.”

Wulf tamped down his anger and blanked out his mind. The last thing he wanted was to betray himself to a stranger who could be every bit as lethal as the Daimons after Cassandra. “If you know so much, then you should know why I was calling.”

Silence answered him.

After a brief pause, Spawn laughed deep in his throat. “You can’t blank your thoughts from me, Wulf. There’s no way to shield yourself from me so long as I have direct contact with you, such as the phone you’re holding. But don’t worry. I’m not your problem. I’m just surprised Apollo really does have an heiress to protect. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Thanks,” Wulf said less than sincerely.

“And to answer your question, I don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“If halflings live past twenty-seven. But then anything is possible. I say in a few months we should pop us some Orville Redenbacher’s, then sit back and enjoy the show.”

It enraged him that the Apollite would make light of something so tragic. “Shut up, Spawn. I don’t find you funny at all.”

“More’s the pity then. I happen to think I’m quite the comedian.”

Wulf wanted nothing more than to tear the Apollite Dark-Hunter apart.

“Then it’s a good thing I live in Alaska where you can’t reach me, huh?”

“How can you do that?”

“I’m a telepath. I know your thoughts even before you do.”

“Then why are you being such an asshole?”

“Because I’m a telepath, not an empath. I couldn’t care less how you feel, only what you think. But since I also had a message from Ash telling me to help you two, I suppose I will.”

“Mighty big of you,” Wulf said sarcastically.

“Yes, it is, especially given how much I detest most of you. But since Cassandra is one of my people, I’ll try and play nice. If I were you, I’d go find her an Apollite mid-wife to help birth your son.”

Wulf’s heart clenched at his words. “It’s a boy?”

“Not quite yet, but he will be when he forms a little more.”

Wulf smiled at the thought, though to be honest, a small part of him wished for a daughter. One who could remind him of her mother once Cassandra was gone.

Squelching that thought before it led him somewhere he didn’t need to go, he listened to Spawn’s list of things Cassandra would require.

“My people are a little different from humans. There are special dietary concerns and environmental changes.”

“I know Cassandra needs a transfusion,” Wulf said, thinking of how pale she’d looked for the last two days. “She told me earlier she was feeling weak.”

“Trust me, she needs more than that.”

“Such as?”

Spawn ignored the question. “I’ll make a few calls and see if I can find someone who is willing to help you two. If we’re lucky, there might even be a colony to take you in. I can’t make any promises. Since I’m now batting for the other team, my people have a bad tendency to hate my guts and want to kill me whenever I try to contact them.”

“I appreciate it, Spawn.”

“Yeah, and I appreciate your lying to me for the sake of politeness when we both know better. The only reason you’re tolerating me right now is Cassandra. Good night, Wulf.”

The phone went dead.

“I take it that didn’t go well.”

He looked over his shoulder to see Cassandra standing in the doorway of his room. His thoughts had been focused on Spawn’s caustic personality, and he hadn’t heard her come in. “About like walking into a bear cave coated in honey.”

She smiled at that as she drew near him. “Interesting image.”

He thought over what Spawn had said about her needs. She’d been pregnant for almost a month now. Was she okay? “How are you feeling?”

“Very, very tired. I came down to go to bed early.”

He gave a halfhearted laugh at that. “Only in our world would midnight be considered early.” He pulled her gently into his lap.

She settled across him easily and he realized just how comfortable he’d become with her.

“Yeah, I know,” she said as she tucked her head under his chin and leaned against his chest. “The joys of being nocturnal.”

She sighed. “When I was a little girl, I used to try and bring sunshine to my mother. I felt so bad that she had never really seen or felt it. So I would try and catch it in jars. When that failed, I captured jars and jars of lightning bugs and told her that if we could catch enough of them, then it would look like the sun. She’d laugh, hug me, and then set them free and tell me that nothing should have to live its life in a cage.”

Wulf smiled. He could just imagine her bringing her jars to her mother. “I’m sure it pleased her.”

She ran her hand over his forearm, raising chills on his entire body as she idly stroked his skin. “My older sister was like her. She couldn’t tolerate the sun at all. If she was in it any more than three minutes, she would burn to a crisp.”

“I’m sorry.”

The two of them fell silent while Wulf closed his eyes and let her scent of roses permeate him. She was so soft against him. Her curves lush and full from her pregnancy.

All he wanted was to taste her.

“Do you think dying hurts?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a breathless whisper.

Pain lacerated him at the thought. “Baby, why do you do this to yourself?”

“I try not to,” she whispered. “I really do, but I can’t seem to stop myself from thinking about the fact that in seven months I will never see the sunshine again.” She looked up at him with her eyes bright and shining from unshed tears. “Never see you. Kat. This ratty old cellar.”

“My rooms are not ratty.”

She gave him a bittersweet, winsome smile. “I know. I guess I should count my blessings. At least I have the benefit of knowing when I’ll die. This way I can put everything in order.”

No, she couldn’t, because as he spent more and more time with her, he was drawn closer to her.

These last three weeks had been so incredible. He’d learned to feel almost normal. It was so nice to walk upstairs and not have to introduce himself to her and Kat.

To wake up at dusk and find her lying beside him, knowing him, his touch …

Sighing, she pushed herself out of his lap and headed toward the bed.

She took a step and stumbled.

Wulf moved with lightning speed to scoop her up into his arms before she fell. “You okay?”

“Dizzy spell.”

She’d been having those for the last week. “Do I need to send for blood?”

“No. I think that one was pregnancy related.”

He carried her to the bed and laid her down gently.

Cassandra smiled at the sight of her Viking warrior and his care. Whatever she needed or wanted, he sent someone for it or he went and got it himself.

As he started to pull away, she kissed his lips. His reaction startled her as he kissed her back desperately. He was like a wild animal as he explored every inch of her mouth. His tongue danced with hers, and when she brushed against his fangs, she shivered.

She felt the predator inside him, the barbarian. He tasted of bloodlust and mercy. Growling, he lifted her shirt up so that he could cup her breast in his hand.

Cassandra sighed at his demanding touch. He was normally so tender but tonight his touch was feral. He pulled her pants and panties off together so quickly that she barely felt the denim and silk leave her.

He didn’t even bother removing his pants all the way. Instead, he shoved them down just below his hips, enough so that he could enter her.

Cassandra moaned as he filled her with such sweet bliss that she wanted to weep. He was so wild as he thrust himself against her, and she took delight in every deep, penetrating stroke.

Wulf couldn’t breathe. He had no business with her. No business letting her inside his defenses when he had no choice except to let her go, but he couldn’t help himself.

He needed to feel her in his arms. Needed to feel her body under him.

She sank her nails into his skin as she arched her back and came for him. He waited until she had finished shuddering before he joined her in that blissful place.

He laid himself carefully down over her body so as not to hurt her or the baby. All he wanted was to feel her entwined with him, her bare legs cradling his body.

“Are you all right?” she asked quietly. “It’s not like you to be in such a hurry.”

Wulf closed his eyes as her words tore through him. Only Cassandra had ever known him. His habits. His likes and dislikes. And she remembered them. In all these centuries, she was the only lover who had learned those things.

What was he going to do without her?

A knock sounded on the door.

“Hey, Cass?” Chris called. “If you’re still up, I ordered a pizza for you since you said you wanted one. It should be here in a few minutes.”

She giggled at that as Wulf frowned at her. Their bodies were still joined. “I told him after you came down here that I would kill for one slice of pepperoni pizza,” she explained. Raising her voice, she said, “Thanks, Chris. I’ll be back up in a few minutes.”

Wulf’s frown deepened. “If you need to rest…”

“Are you kidding? I meant it when I said I’d kill for pizza.”

“You should have said something earlier. Chris would have had the cook make you one.”

“I know, but by the time I went upstairs, Marie had already started on the chicken and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s a really nice lady.”

“I know.”

She saw the stricken look on Wulf’s face.

Marie had been working there for almost eight years and she mistakenly thought Chris was her boss. Marie had given Cassandra the whole story of how Chris’s father had hired her and then three years ago, after Chris’s father’s heart attack in the living room, Chris’s mother had moved to a new home across town so that she wouldn’t have to relive her husband’s death every time she walked through the house.

His mother had tried to get Chris to leave as well, but for an obvious reason, he’d stayed behind with Wulf. The house had been left in trust to Chris by his father, so Chris’s mother couldn’t sell it and force him to move.

There was no telling how many times in the last eight years Wulf had met Marie.

“I’m sorry, Wulf.”

“Don’t be, I’m used to it.”

He withdrew from her and dressed, then helped her back into her clothes. But he wouldn’t let her walk back up the stairs for fear of her stumbling.

Instead, he carried her to the sofa and made her lie down while he fetched a pillow and blanket for her.

Cassandra smiled at his kindness as he returned and tucked the blanket around her, then snatched the remote from Chris.

“Hey!” Chris snapped indignantly.

“You’re not pregnant, Chris.” He handed it to Cassandra.

“Fine,” Chris said sullenly. “See if I ever have a baby for you.”

“Yeah, right. By the time you get around to it, my child will have grandchildren.”

Chris was aghast. “Oh, oh, oh, I don’t want to hear it from you, hornhead.” That was a familiar insult Chris used to nettle Wulf. Cassandra hadn’t understood it until Chris explained that it stemmed from the mistaken belief that Vikings wore horned helmets in the Middle Ages.

“That’s it,” Chris continued, “I’m switching schools to Stanford. I’m tired of all this snow anyway. I might not get laid there either, but at least the women in class won’t be dressed in parkas.”

Kat entered the room and rolled her eyes. “Is it just me or do these two argue like two little kids every time they get together?”

“They argue like kids,” Cassandra said. “I think they’re trying to make needling other people an Olympic sport.”

Chris opened his mouth at the same time the door buzzed. “Pizza,” he said, getting up.

A strange tremor went through Cassandra. Rubbing the back of her neck, she looked around.

“You okay?” Kat asked.

“I think so.” She just felt … odd …

She leaned her head back against the sofa to see Chris with the pizza in his hand and the delivery guy outside. Chris paid him.

“Hey,” the guy said as Chris pulled back. “Do you mind if I come in for a sec and use the phone? I need to call the store about the next delivery.”

Chris cocked his head. “How about I bring you a cell phone for the porch?”

“C’mon, man, it’s cold out here. Can’t I come in to make a call?”

Wulf was on his feet, quickly heading for the door, as Chris pulled back even more.

“Sorry, dude,” Chris said more sternly. “No one unknown comes into this house,
capische?
”

“Chris,” Wulf snapped, his voice low and steely. “Get back.”

For once Chris didn’t argue.

Wulf grabbed a sword from the wall at the same time the Daimon on the porch pulled two huge daggers out from the insulated pizza bag.