The Dark-Hunters (613 page)

A hole appeared in the room, sucking them into the center of it. An instant later, they were all gone.

Now that was one seriously handy skill. “And that, my friends, is the difference between a full-fledged goddess and a demigod,” he said under his breath.

Her expression unamused, she turned to Stryker. “And
that,
unfortunately, won’t last because someone”—she pinned him with an angry glare—“gave them access to my realm. Perhaps I should feed you to them after all.”

“Give me a couple of hours before you do. Right now, I need to take inventory of the damage done to my men.”

“Since when do you care what happens to them?”

He didn’t answer. It was true he liked to pretend he had no feelings whatsoever. That he was above anything as petty as emotions. But he knew the truth.

He ached and he cared even when he didn’t want to. No matter how hard he tried, he was still a man.

“My men need me.” He walked past an angry Savitar, who was heading toward Apollymi.

“Why didn’t you stay put?” Savitar snarled at her.

She gave him a cold, haughty stare. “I’m the goddess of destruction. Did you really think I’d stay put while they ate their way through my home?” She curled her lip. “I need you to get Sin after them. He’s a Sumerian god, he should police the creation of his own pantheon and clean up their mess.”

Savitar snorted. “You know if I do that, your granddaughter will be fighting right along beside him, don’t you? The last time she fought the gallu, they almost converted her into one of them.”

She hissed at him, “Why did she marry that no-account Sumerian god? Fine. Don’t tell them.” She looked around the debris. “Strykerius, I expect you and your men to clean this mess up.”

Stryker started to snap at her, then caught himself. Pissing her off wouldn’t accomplish anything and they had a lot to do. “You know this isn’t over. War will be back.”

“Yes, I do know that. Thank you for reminding me. In the meantime, we should make some preparations. Anyone know a good exterminator?”

No sooner had those words left her lips than Jared, looking much better than he had last time they’d met, appeared beside Stryker. Dressed in a black leather jacket, black button-down shirt, and black jeans, Jared’s eyes were covered with a pair of opaque sunglasses. His auburn hair had been pulled back into a sleek ponytail.

The Sephiroth glanced around with a frown. “Looks like I missed a party. Good. I wasn’t really in the mood to off demons this evening. Haven’t had my coffee yet.”

Savitar grimaced. “You drink coffee?”

His face was stoic. “No, but it was my pathetic attempt at humor.”

“What are you doing here?” Apollymi asked him. It was obvious from her tone that she didn’t appreciate an uninvited creature popping into her domain.

“I was ordered to protect him.” He jerked his chin toward Stryker.

Apollymi folded her arms over her chest. “Well, I asked for an exterminator and look who appears. Want to take out War for us?”

“I can’t.”

She looked less than pleased by his response. “Why not?”

“Primal Source,” Savitar said drily. “Jared was created to protect those powers. No one can make him kill them.”

Jared nodded. “Exactly. Not even my owner can command that.”

Apollymi frowned. “I don’t understand. You can kill the Malachai. Weren’t they born of the same powers?”

Jared sighed. “The Malachai declared enmity on the Source, thereby severing those ties. Because they threatened the Source, the Sepherii were able to attack and kill them. Until War makes a like threat against the primal powers, I can’t touch him.”

One corner of Savitar’s mouth quirked up. “Well, don’t you suck?”

Jared’s features softened. “Oh, believe me, I couldn’t agree more. Just be grateful it’s not contagious.”

Stryker ignored them as he considered what he’d inadvertently set into motion by wanting revenge. How simple it’d all seemed. War killed Ash and Nick, then him. Now there was a lot more going on here. “We have to find some way to contain War.”

Savitar gave him a droll glare. “You’re the one who unleashed him.”

“Yeah, well, let’s move on from the blame game. I was having suicidal thoughts and it seemed like a good idea at the time. In retrospect, not so much.”

“Most major mistakes do,” Apollymi said quietly. “Not many people carry out thoughts they know going into it are stupid … morons not included.”

Savitar laughed. “Then that leaves you out, huh, Stryker.”

He glared at Savitar. “For the record, we’re not friends.”

“For the record, I don’t care.”

“Enough, children,” Apollymi said between clenched teeth. “In case you haven’t noticed, we have a major situation playing out. We have to find and stop War, corral the gallu, protect Apostolos, and get Savitar out of here.”

“Why the latter?” Jared asked.

“Because I hate his guts.”

Savitar shook his head. “I hate you, too, precious.”

She sneered at him. “Put on some real clothes. What is that you’re wearing and does it come in adult sizes?”

He looked highly offended by her attack on his wardrobe. “Cargo pants and a Hawaiian shirt are real clothes.”

“Not in my realm they’re not, and button that shirt.”

“Hey!” he snapped as the shirt closed itself. “You know there are women who would pay to see me naked.”

“I’m sure there are women
you
pay to see you naked. Perish the thought, but I’m not one of either group. Now hush while I think.”

Stryker was amused by their bantering. He’d never seen Apollymi quite so animated. Or Savitar flustered. Any other time, he’d goad them into continuing, but they had too much to do for him to play Loki.

Jared stepped back. “While you plan and plot, I have a Malachai to kill.” He vanished.

Savitar sighed. “I really don’t think Acheron is going to approve of that action.”

“No,” Apollymi agreed. “I would send you after him, but I don’t want Apostolos angry at me.”

Savitar let out an elongated breath. “You know we have to stay on guard. War’s modus operandi is to divide and conquer. He turns all friends into enemies.”

Stryker rolled his eyes. “Well, since the three of us hate each other, there’s not much more he can do.”

Apollymi gave him a hard stare. “I don’t hate you, Stryker. I would have never brought you into my realm if I had.” She vanished.

Stunned and uncertain about those uncharacteristic words, Stryker followed her. The one thing he’d learned over the centuries was that Apollymi was even less sentimental than he was.

Then again, there was another side to him in private that no one else saw, and it made him wonder what secrets she held.

She’d adjourned to her secluded garden that was walled in by marble. Black roses bloomed all around in memory and in mourning of the son she could never see. Her two Charonte bodyguards stood on the side like statues. But for an occasional blink, it would be easy to think them dead.

“What are you saying?” he asked her as she took a perch on the edge of the pool that flowed backward, up the wall.

“I’m tired, Strykerius.” She got up to leave.

He did what he’d never done before. He pulled her to a stop. “I want an answer from you.”

She shrugged his touch away. “How dense you are, child. In all your hatred have you never once thought through our relationship?”

“Believe me, these last few years I’ve done nothing but. You used me and then you cast me off.”

She shook her head. “I adopted you, Strykerius. When your children died, I wept with you.”

“The hell you did.”

She pulled back the sleeve of her gown to show him her wrist. There were eleven black teardrops tattooed into her skin. It was the Atlantean custom to remember loved ones who’d died. “The one at the top is for my son. The rest are for your children.”

He touched her arm, unable to believe her. “What about Urian? You told me to kill him.”

“I told you your son had a secret that you should investigate. That he was keeping things from you. I never intended for you to kill him. You did that on your own.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to. I really don’t care anymore. I would end both our lives at this point, but until I know for a fact that War is contained and my son is safe, I’m stuck here.”

“With me.”

Her silver eyes flashed in the dim light. But he saw the pain that she hid so elegantly. “I didn’t say that.”

“Your tone did.”

She let out an aggravated breath. “You are so blind. Everything is black or white. I either hate you or love you. But that’s not how it goes. Life is never that clear-cut. Emotions aren’t that clear-cut.” She touched him softly on the cheek. “Think, Strykerius. You and I were an allied force for thousands of years. Us against your father and Artemis. Against her army of Dark-Hunters and the humans we both hate. The only one I ever forbade you to touch was Apostolos, and now you know why. He is my son. But even so, I sheltered you and yours. I brought you in and taught you how to steal the humans’ souls.”

“So that you could hurt my father for killing Acheron.”

She inclined her head respectfully. “That is true. Originally, I couldn’t see anything more than my own revenge. But I watched as your children grew … as you grew, and I watched as they died. Do you really think me so cold that never once did I care?”

“Yes, I do. You killed your own family. All of them.”

Her face turned to stone. It betrayed no emotion or passion. “I held the same anger then that you held the night you cut Urian’s throat. No, I held even more. Their betrayal against me was far greater than what your son did to you. What Urian did he did out of love for a woman. He wasn’t trying to hurt you. He was only trying to find happiness for the two of them and he meant you no slight. What my family did to me was out of selfish fear. They united against me to imprison me and kill my son.
That
is unforgivable.”

She paused as the pain in her eyes flared bright and he saw how much she still ached over what had happened. “But just like you, after they were all gone and I was alone, I grieved for what I’d done. I missed that family, sorry though it was, and I wanted to see them again.”

She looked over her shoulder to where her demons were still standing at attention. “While I cherish my Charonte army, it wasn’t the same as my family.” She turned her attention to him and her gaze softened. “And then this golden-haired youth called out to me as he begged the powers that be for some way to save his small children from an unfair fate. He reminded me of my own son and so I offered to him what I’d never offered to another.” The tenderness vanished under the cold countenance that was so familiar. “I bound my life to you in order to save you. The only time you and I were ever at odds was when I ordered you to leave Apostolos alone and you refused to do so.”

“You failed to tell me he was your son.”

“Because I knew it would hurt you,” she said between clenched teeth. “Why else would I have kept that a secret?”

“You were trying to control me.”

“I never,” she snarled. “I turned you loose to wreak revenge against your father. I opened my entire realm to your kind and allowed you to take refuge here. Every Dark-Hunter you killed, every human life you destroyed, I took pride in it as any mother would.”

Still, he refused to believe her. She’d been using him …

And yet he remembered the way they’d been over the centuries. She’d always welcomed him into her private chambers. Always welcomed his company.

He missed that more than he wanted to admit to himself.

“Why haven’t you told me this before now?”

She sighed. “Because I would rather you hate me for Urian’s death than hate yourself. No parent should ever know such grief.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Then don’t. We both know compassion isn’t my strong suit. I barely understand it.” She raked him with a cool glance. “I barely understand you.” She gathered the skirts of her black gown and walked past him.

Stryker watched her as her words echoed in his ears. She might not understand compassion, but she did know how to love. Her uncompromising protection and sacrifice for Acheron was beyond reproach. It was what had set Stryker’s jealousy off and made him turn against her.

He’d wanted her to love him like that.

Stryker winced at the undeniable truth. He’d been taken out of his mother’s womb before he was born and given over to Apollo’s priestesses to raise. While they’d never been cruel where he was concerned, they’d all been afraid of him. He’d never known a real mother.

Not until Apollymi.

Even so, he wasn’t sure if he could trust her. Did he dare? But for all her malice, he’d never known her to lie. She might omit things, but she didn’t come straight out and lie.…

Closing his eyes, he ground his teeth as pain assailed him. It was hard to be responsible for so many and to have no one he could fully trust.

Gods, how tired he was of being alone in the universe. Of standing strong all the time.

Not wanting to dwell on that, he left the garden to return to where his men were still tending to the wounded and killing those who were converting.

“Are we at war, my lord?”

He looked at Ann, a small, beautiful blond Daimon female, and nodded. “The demons are no longer welcomed here. We extended our hands in friendship and they repaid us in bloodshed.” Little surprise really, a demon was a demon. He should have known better than to think they could ever combine forces with the gallu. “But that’s all right. What we lack in numbers we make up for with vicious and cunning. We are Daimon and we are Spathi. Now let us show those bastards what we can do.”

His men shouted in approval.

Savitar laughed behind him.

Stryker cast him an angry glare. “You find something funny, Chthonian?”

“Yeah, I do. I find it hysterical that your new lease on life is named War.”

He gave Savitar a look to let him know what he thought of him—not much. “At least I have a lease.”

“True, but you do know what the problem with a lease is?”

“What?”

“They usually run out sooner than later. And if you’re not paying close attention to the fine print, you always get burned.”