The Dark-Hunters (745 page)

Whose was it?

“I can’t find the brat.”

The sirens were getting louder and louder.

“I’ll take care of it,” the voice whispered again. “But you need to go.”

“Why? It might be better if they find me here.”

“I have a better idea.”

He let out a sound of extreme frustration as pulsating lights flashed through the windows. “Fine,” he snarled. “I’ll trust you, but if you’re wrong, you’ll be joining the other two in the living room.”

“Don’t worry, I have your back.”

She watched as Sundown stormed out of the room, leaving nothing but bloody footprints in his wake.…

Abigail jerked awake to find herself in Sundown’s house.

The memory of the night her parents had died lingered heavy in her heart as the sequence of events was clarified.

Sundown had killed her parents. He’d been lying to her when he denied it.

How do you know that?

Hello? I was there.

Still, there was a tiny part of her that doubted it. Her mind couldn’t reconcile the two sides of Sundown that she’d seen. The fierce protector and the lethal killer.

You’ve killed, too.

But for a reason. Her parents hadn’t deserved their deaths.

“You’re awake.”

She glanced over to the door where Sundown was standing. A wave of fury swelled through her, but she fought it down. The last thing she wanted was to warn him of her intentions.

“Yeah.” Licking her dry lips, she glanced down to his right front pants pocket, which caused him to arch an inquisitive brow. Her face turned red as she realized he thought she was staring at his crotch and not the other, much smaller bump. “Not on your life, cowboy.”

“Dang. Just when I got my hopes up, too.”

For once, she didn’t let his charm infiltrate her suspicions. She sat up on the bed. “Do you have the time?”

He pulled an old-fashioned pocket watch out and opened the cover to check it.

Before he could answer her question, she was off the bed and had it in her hand. Her breath caught as she saw the photo that had set her father off.

It
was
her mother.

“What are you doing with this?”

His face turned white. “It’s not what you think.”

She glared at him as she clutched the watch, wanting to strangle him. “What I think is that you’re a liar.” She held it up for him to see the picture. “This is my mother.”

“It’s not your mother.”

“Bullshit. I know what she looked like.”

Still, he shook his head in denial. “Look at it again. Your mother had short hair and never wore a dress like that one. Ever.”

She turned it back toward her to study it.

He was right. The woman in the photograph had her hair piled up into an extravagant braided bun like a woman would have worn in the late 1800s. Her high-collar, white lace blouse was adorned at the neck by an antique cameo. Like her mother’s, the woman’s eyes glowed with warmth and kindness.

But the most startling fact was that their features were eerily identical. The same sharp cheekbones and dark hair. Eyebrows that arched at an angle above kind eyes. But her mother’s eyes had been blue. The woman in the photograph had dark eyes. Even so, it was like staring at her mother all over again.

“I told you your ma reminded me of someone.” Jess covered her hand with his. “Now you know.”

That touch sent a chill down her spine. “Who is she?”

“Matilda Aponi.” There was a catch in his voice that told her the mere mention of the name pained him.

“And what was she to you?”

He took the watch from her and closed it. “Does it matter?”

Obviously the woman had mattered a lot to him. “You loved her.”

“More than my life.”

Those heartfelt words actually made her ache. She’d never seen so much love in a man’s eyes for any woman. It was so intense and unexpected that a part of her was actually jealous of it. She’d give anything to have a man love her so much. “Are we related to her?”

He started to turn away, but Abigail wouldn’t let him. She reached out and touched his arm as a creepy suspicion filled her.
Please let me be wrong.

“Am I related to you?”

“Oh God, no,” he said, his eyes widening in horror. “I’d have never let you kiss me like you did if you were.”

That was a relief. “She married someone else, then?”

He inclined his head to her. “It wasn’t meant to be between us.”

Abigail didn’t miss the way he stroked the watch as if it were a part of Matilda, or the agonized grief in his eyes as he talked about her.

“She was too good for me, anyway. I’m just glad she found someone who made her happy.” He slid the watch back into his pocket, then changed the subject. “Andy has some food for you. I’ll go ring him to bring it.”

Abigail didn’t try to stop him from leaving this time as she digested everything.

Could a man capable of that much love for someone else be the monster she thought he was?

While she had no doubt he was more than capable of killing her father, she seriously doubted he would have slaughtered her mother. Not with the feelings he’d had for Matilda. It didn’t seem to fit.

Could it have been a shape-shifter? There were plenty who could have worn his skin.

But who and, most important, why? What would anyone have to gain by framing him and not turning him over to the authorities? And why kill her parents?

Her head ached from trying to decipher it.

I have to find out the truth and make whoever killed them pay.
She owed her parents that much.

She turned back toward the bed to get her shoes when a disgusted sound made her pause.

“What do you mean I can’t go?” It was a voice she was unfamiliar with that sounded like someone standing not too far from her room.

“I thought we’d settled this, mite,” Jess said sternly.

“Ah, hell no, we didn’t. You let me go up to Alaska with you, and I was a lot younger then.”

“And there were other Squires there to watch your back. Not to mention, I was dumb enough not to know how much danger was there. This time I know, and you’re not going.”

“I hate you, you decrepit bastard.”

Sundown scoffed. “I hear you. Now take that to Abigail and mind your manners, pup.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” A few seconds later, he knocked on her door.

“Come in.” She couldn’t wait to see Sundown’s Squire.

Andy walked in with a tray that carried a bottled Coke, water, and a plate filled with chicken, roasted potatoes, and green beans. He paused to eye her suspiciously. Dressed in jeans and a red T-shirt, he appeared to be around her age and extremely cute. Except for the slight curl to his lip, as if it made him ill to be in her presence.

“You must be Andy.”

“Yeah, and if you hurt Jess, so help me, I will hunt you down to the farthest corner of hell and make you wish to God you’d never breathed air. You hear me?”

Well, that was most unexpected. “You greet everyone this way?”

“No. I’m usually very nice. But you … you have no idea how much effort it’s taking for me not to kill you where you stand.”

She returned his sneer with one of her own. “Bring it, punk.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He moved to set the tray at the foot of the bed. Closer to him now, she realized he was almost as tall as Sundown. Though without the massive muscles and aura of I-can-kick-the-crap-out-of-you, it wasn’t quite so apparent at first glance. Unlike Sundown, he didn’t dominate the room or her senses.

Andy started for the door.

“Why are you so protective of him, anyway? I thought Squires hated their Dark-Hunters.”

He paused to give her a look that asked are-you-effing-nuts? “Our Dark-Hunters are our family. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for them. Even die for them if we had to.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.”

He scowled at her. “From who? Daimons? Apollites? If the DH are so bad, explain to me why some of the above have been known to work and live with Dark-Hunters themselves.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now I know you’re lying to me. There’s no way an Apollite would
ever
work for a Dark-Hunter.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave her a droll stare. “Babe, I know two of them who married one.” He jerked his chin toward the door. “Ishtar Casino, here in Vegas, has a whole staff of Apollites who work for Sin Nana … who up until about four years ago was a Dark-Hunter, and he was doing his duties while they worked for him. Hell, half of them helped him, and when he was attacked, they and even a Daimon fought to protect him.”

Abigail would argue, but she knew Apollites who’d worked there, and she knew Sin owned it. “How do I know Sin was ever a Dark-Hunter?”

“Why would I lie?”

“It could be pathological.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m not going to argue with you. Don’t like you enough to bother. But like I said, you hurt one hair on his head, and you will regret it. Jess
is
my family, and he’s been through enough damage in his life. And in spite of all the shit people have done to him, including his best friend shooting him in the back and in his head on the day of his wedding at the feet of his fiancée, there’s not a more decent human being ever born.” He turned and was out the door before she had a chance to say anything else.

Stunned, she stood there as that last bit hit her like a fist.

Shot in the back on his wedding day? An image of Matilda and her mother went through her mind. For a full minute, she couldn’t breathe. She could see it all in her head so clearly.

It wasn’t meant to be.
Sundown’s words echoed in her ears. No wonder he’d been so sad when he talked about her.

To be with her mother, who looked so much like Matilda, must have killed him.

It’s why he killed her and your father. He couldn’t take it anymore.

A psychotic break would make sense.

Andy and Jess were lying.

She wanted to believe that. It would be the easiest. Not to mention, it was the option that didn’t leave her with a conscience that would flog her for the rest of her life.

However long that was.

Rubbing her hand over her eyes, she sat down on the bed and looked at the food. It turned her stomach.

No, not the food. What she’d done. The one thing no one had ever told her about was how to cope with the lives she’d taken. Even before Sundown had kidnapped her, her conscience had been there, telling her that she’d taken someone’s life. Her anger kept her going, but it wasn’t enough to drown out her actions.

“They deserved it. Think of how many of us they’ve killed over the centuries. Do you think they ever have a minute’s worth of compassion when it comes to us? No, they don’t. Kill the Apollite. We’re animals to be butchered to them. Wasn’t it bad enough Apollo cursed us? Then his damned sister had to go and create a race to hunt and kill us as brutally as they can. They stab us in the hearts, Abby. And stand over our bodies while we die. Where is fair in all of that? We live twenty-seven years and hit full puberty at a time when most humans are still in grade school, learning their ABC’s. Our lives are horrifically short, and you were there when my mother withered into dust. At twenty-seven. Remember that? Did you ever even hear her speak a bad word about anyone? No. She was kindness incarnate. We took you in and you’ve seen it firsthand. We don’t hurt anyone.
We
are the victims.”
Kurt’s indignation had fueled her vengeance quest, along with Perry and Jonah.

Even Hannah.

Kill the Dark-Hunters, Abby.
That had been chanted to her since the moment Kurt’s mother died. Even her adoptive father, on his deathbed, had begged her for retribution.

“You’re our only hope, Abs. Don’t let us down. Remember what they did to us. What that animal did to your parents. Never forget it.”

But her memories … Something in all of this didn’t feel right. There were too many missing pieces.

If only she knew the truth.

You do know the truth. You were there.

Unable to sort through it, she looked up at the ceiling, wishing the real answer would fall down and smack her hard enough to make her listen.

*   *   *

“Your coyotes just came slinking back in the door with tucked tails. I would have killed them, but figured you’d want the honor. They claim there’s a wolf helping your enemies now. But they don’t know who he is, or if he’s one of ours or from another pantheon. My guess is he’s not one of ours.”

Coyote narrowed his gaze on the huge bear of a man who dared to enter his den with such unwelcome news. And there was only one who would be so bold. Snake was a full head taller, which, given the fact that Coyote was six feet two, was impressive. While his own hair was short and black, Snake’s head was shaved bald and an intricate snake tattoo started at where his hairline would be on top of his head. It coiled down his neck and both of his beefy arms into a symbolic pattern that only one of their people could read. To most, Snake would appear like a criminal. But Coyote knew him for what he really was.

An ancient warrior who, like him, had lain dormant for far too long. Who would have thought when they agreed to their duties centuries ago that they, who had once made the very earth tremble in fear of their strength and skill, would be relegated to a role that was only one step above nursemaid?

“Did you hear me, Coyote?”

He gave a subtle nod. “They’ve grown fat and lazy. Unable to hunt. I weep for what has become of our people.” Most of all, he wept for what had become of them.

“With Choo Co La Tah weakened, we’ll have better luck after this.”

He wished he were so optimistic. Choo Co La Tah had turned back his scorpions faster than he’d expected. But it’d drained the old man. With luck, his next plague would weaken him enough that they could kill him, too.

With Choo Co La Tah out of the way, there would be no stopping them.

He could almost smile at the unexpected gift the human had given them. He’d hoped she would kill Renegade and Brady. Taking out his other enemy was a bonus.