The Dark-Hunters (213 page)

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Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban

BOOK: The Dark-Hunters
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He gaped incredulously at her words. That was one word he would never have applied to himself. “Blessed?”

“Oui,”
she said sincerely. “Unlike the rest of us, you know what it’s like for the other side. You’ve been both animal and human. I’ll never know what it’s like to be human. But you do.”

“I’m not human.”

She shrugged. “Whatever you say,
cher.
But I know other Arcadians who have mated with humans. If you wish I could have them come talk to you.”

“To what purpose? Were they mixed blood like me?”

“Non.”

“Then what are they going to tell me? If my mate bears children, will they be human or wolf? Will they change base forms at puberty? How do I explain to a human mate that
I
don’t know what our children will be?”

“But you are Arcadian.”

He hated the fact that Nicolette, Acheron, and Colt could see what he’d been able to hide from others. He didn’t know how they were able to detect him, but it seriously pissed him off. Even his own father hadn’t known he was an Arcadian.

Of course it helped that his father barely looked at him.

“Am I Arcadian?” he asked, lowering his voice to an angry whisper. “I don’t feel the human side the way Colt does. How can I have been a wolf pup and then convert to human during puberty? How is that even possible?”

She shook her head. “
Je ne sais pas,
Vane. There is much in this world I don’t understand. There are very few mixed bloods, you know that. Most humans who are brought in as mates are sterile. Maybe yours is, too.”

That gave him some degree of hope, but he wasn’t foolish enough to grasp it. His life had never been an easy one. Every time he had reached out for something he wanted, he’d been slapped down viciously.

It was hard to be optimistic in a life where optimism had never been rewarded positively.

“It’s a chance I can’t take,” he said quietly, even though a part of him wanted that chance with a desperation that frightened him. “I refuse to screw up her life.”

Nicolette stepped back from him. “Very well. That’s something that’s completely up to you, but if you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

“Fine. Why don’t you take the next few weeks and stay with your mate while she is marked? We’ll take care of Fang in the meantime.”

Did he dare trust that offer?

“Are you sure?”


Oui, cher.
You can trust some animals, even bears. I promise you, your brother is safe here, but your mate, she’s not safe alone while she carries your scent on her.”

Nicolette was right. If, as he suspected, his pack was looking for them, their scouts might find his scent around Bride. She would carry it as long as she bore his mark, and a trained Were-Hunter would be able to sniff her out.

There was no telling what his enemies might do to her.

“Thank you, Nicolette. I owe you.”

“I know. Now go and be with your human while you can.”

Vane nodded, then flashed back to Bride’s side.

She was still asleep on her couch. Lying on her back, she looked extremely uncomfortable. Her legs were bunched up and she had one arm over her head while the other dangled off into nothingness.

Tenderness flooded him as he remembered the way she had looked as she came for him. The sight of her face in the mirror as he held her.

She was a passionate woman. One he ached to taste again and again. Against his common sense, he reached out and touched her soft cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped.

Bride sat up with a hiss as she thought she saw Vane standing over her.

“Vane?”

The wolf padded around the couch to sit beside her.

Confused, she looked around, then gave a nervous laugh. “Boy, am I hallucinating or what? Oh yeah. Looney Tunes, here I come.”

Shaking her head, she lay back down and tried to go back to sleep, but as she did, she could swear she smelled Vane’s scent on her skin.

*   *   *

For two days, Vane stayed in wolf form as he watched over Bride, but with every minute of it, he felt as if he were being brutally tortured. His natural instinct was to claim her.

If she were a she-wolf, he would be inside her even now, showing her his prowess and authority.

The beast inside him demanded the courtship. The human in him …

It scared him most of all. Neither part was listening to his cool, calm rationale. Not that he really had any of that where she was concerned. Around her, he had a raging hormonal surge so profound it made a tsunami look like a toddler’s wave pool.

His need to touch her was becoming so ferocious that he was even afraid to be with her now.

A few minutes ago, in wolf form, he’d run out the door to try and get a grip on himself before he returned to her shop for more torment. Every time she moved, it made his blood heat. The sound of her voice, the lick she gave her long, graceful fingers as she flipped through the pages of her magazines, it was all torture for him.

It was killing him.

You wish.

Really, he was beginning to. Death had to be preferable to this. Where were the assassin wolves when he needed them? Yeah, pain. That was the answer. Nothing like severe pain to curb his sexual appetites.

Think of something else.

Vane had to get his mind off Bride and her body. More importantly, off what he wanted to do to and with her body.

Determined to try, he stopped in front of a small store on Royal Street. It was a doll shop, of all things. He didn’t really know why he was here except one of the dolls in the window reminded him of the one Bride had in a box by her TV.

“Well, don’t just stand outside, young man, come on in.”

A tiny old woman stood in the doorway. Her hair was gray, but her eyes were sharp and intelligent.

“It’s okay, I was just looking,” Vane said.

And then he caught a scent of something strange. A fissure of power in the air that was even stronger than that of a Were-Hunter.

Acheron?

The old woman smiled at him. “Come inside, wolf. There’s someone I think you want to talk to.”

She held the door open as he entered the small, dark shop, lined with shelves and cases of custom-made dolls. Without a word, she led him behind the counter and through a set of heavy burgundy curtains.

Vane drew up short as he saw the strangest sight of his entire four hundred years of life.

The mighty Dark-Hunter Acheron Parthenopaeus sat on the floor of the back room with his legs crossed as he played dolls with his demon companion and a human infant.

Vane couldn’t move as he watched the infant girl sitting on Ash’s bent, leather-clad knee while the Dark-Hunter held her there with one large hand on her belly. Dressed in a frilly pink pinafore and black Mary Janes, she was beautiful, with short, dark auburn curls and a plump, angelic face.

Ash held a male doll in his right hand while the little girl chewed on the head of a red-haired Barbie that looked strangely like the Greek goddess Artemis, who had created and ruled the Dark-Hunters. The demon sat in front of them holding a blond doll. The demon herself had black hair with a red stripe in it that matched Ash’s hair perfectly.

“See, I knew baby Marissa was quality people,” the demon said to Ash. “Look how she eating the head off the redheaded Artemis doll. Simi needs to teach her to belch fire, then introduce her to the real heifer-goddess herself.”

Ash laughed. “I don’t think so, Sim. Marissa isn’t quite ready for that, are you, sweetie?”

The little girl reached up and placed a wet hand to Ash’s chin as she laughed at him. Ash playfully nipped at her hand while the demon took his doll and made it dance with hers.

“I think my doll needs a pair of horneys,
akri,
” the demon said to Ash. “You think Liza will make me a demon doll like me?”

Horns appeared instantly on the doll’s head, along with red and black hair.

The demon squealed in delight. “Oh, thank you,
akri.
It’s a Simi doll!” Cocking her head, the demon looked at the little girl in Ash’s lap. “You know, Marissa is a cutie baby, but she be even prettier with horneys too.”

“No, Sim, I don’t think Amanda or Kyrian would appreciate getting their daughter back with a pair of horns on her head.”

“Yeah, but she look so … so … deprived without them. I could make them really pretty. Maybe pink to go with her dress?”

“That’s okay, Simi.”

The demon pouted. “Oh pooh, you no fun,
akri.
” She held up the male doll. “See this, Marissa? Okay, now here’s what happens when he make Barbie mad. She gets her barbecue sauce and she eats him.”

Ash quickly took the doll from Simi’s hand before she could place it in her open mouth. “No, no, Simi. You’re allergic to rubber.”

“I am?”

“Don’t you remember how sick you got when you ate those tires off the truck that made you mad?”

The demon looked really disappointed. “Oh. Is that what made me ill? I thought it was because the heifer-goddess was there.”

Ash placed a quick kiss to the top of the baby’s head, then handed her to Simi. “Watch Marissa for a few minutes and don’t eat her or let her eat anything.”

“No worry,
akri.
I would never eat baby Marissa. I know how much you would miss her if I did.”

Ash gave the demon an affectionate hug before he got up and sauntered over to Vane. Tall and lean, Ash was the epitome of a young man in the prime of his life. There weren’t many people taller than Vane, but Ash was one of them.

And it wasn’t just his height that was intimidating. There was something primal and powerful about the Dark-Hunter. Something that even the animal in Vane feared.

Even so, they had known each other for centuries. In fact, Ash had been the one who had helped Vane to find his mother. To this day, Vane wasn’t sure why the Dark-Hunter had helped him.

But then, no one understood Acheron Parthenopaeus.

“You know, it’s not nice to spy on people, wolf.”

Vane snorted at that. “As if anyone could ever spy on you.” He looked back at the demon and little girl. “I never pegged you for a babysitter.”

Ash glanced down at Vane’s hand, then met him with a level gaze. There was something extremely disconcerting about Ash’s liquid silver eyes that swirled with mystical power and ancient knowledge. “I never pegged you for a coward.”

Anger sizzled through Vane at the insult. He lunged at Ash, only to have the Atlantean spin out of his reach.

“Don’t.” That single word carried enough command to give Vane pause.

Ash looked over his shoulder to the old woman who was still standing in the opening of the curtains. “Liza, would you fetch Vane a cup of tea, please?”

“I don’t drink tea.”

“Liza?”

“I’ll be right back with it.” The old woman went out into the shop.

“I don’t drink tea,” Vane reiterated.

“You’ll drink hers and you’ll like it.”

Vane’s gaze darkened again. “I’m not one of your Dark-Hunters, Acheron. I don’t dance to your command.”

“Neither do they. But that’s neither here nor there, is it?” Ash cocked his head as if he were listening to something that only the Atlantean could hear. “You’re seeking answers.”

“I don’t need anything from a Dark-Hunter. Ever.”

Ash let out a slow, deep breath. “I’m sorry about Anya, Vane, but it was meant to be.”

Vane curled his lip at the offer of sympathy; his heart was still broken over her loss. “Don’t talk to me about fate, Dark-Hunter. I’ve had it with that subject.”

To his amazement, Ash agreed. “I know the feeling. But it doesn’t change what’s going on inside you, does it?”

He cut a glare at Ash. “What do you know about it?”

“Everything.” Ash crossed his arms over his chest as he watched him with a gaze that set Vane on edge. “Life would be so easy if we had all the answers, wouldn’t it? Will your pack come for you? Will Fang be normal again? Will Bride ever accept you as her mate?”

Vane went cold at his words. “How do you know about Bride?”

He didn’t answer. “You know, humans are amazing in their capacity to love. Don’t sell either one of you short because you’re afraid of what
might
happen. Instead, maybe you should focus on what
will
happen if you leave her.”

That was easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one being hunted. “What do you know about fear?”

“Enough to teach a lifetime course on it.” Ash looked past him to see the infant standing up beside the demon on wobbly little legs that were still learning how to support the baby’s weight. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Vane shrugged. He was far from an expert on what made a human child beautiful.

“Hard to believe that if Kyrian hadn’t had faith in Amanda and in their future together, she would never have existed at all. No one would have heard the beauty of her little laugh or seen the preciousness of her smile … Think about it, Vane. An accountant who only wanted a normal life and a Dark-Hunter who thought love was a fable. If Kyrian had walked away, he would still be living alone as a Dark-Hunter. And Amanda, had she managed to survive the Apollite and Daimon who were out to steal her powers, would probably be married to someone else by now.”

“Would they have been happy?” Vane wasn’t sure why he asked that question.

Ash shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But look at their baby. She’s going to grow up the daughter of a sorceress and a Dark-Hunter. She will know things about this world that few people ever do. For that matter, she already does. Now imagine if she never existed. What would the world have lost without her?”

“What has it gained with her?”

Ash didn’t hesitate to answer. “It has gained a truly beautiful soul who will grow up to help anyone who needs it. In a world full of malice, she will never do harm. And two souls who have never known love now have each other.”

Vane scoffed at that. “Have you ever thought about writing romance novels, Ash? That might wash in fiction, but let me tell you about the real world. That little girl will grow up, have her heart broken, and be used by people out to take advantage of her.”

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