The Dark-Hunters (815 page)

Still, he defended his brother’s actions. “You can’t tell the truth to someone who doesn’t want to hear it, Kateri. Every time Coyote tried, my father thought he was being kind to me, and humble, so all it did was elevate Coyote in his eyes while it lowered me. Coyote always apologized and felt bad for it, but there was nothing he could do. I never held any of it against him until Butterfly. She became the symbol for every slight I’d been given by every person, and it was her presence in our home that made me realize I would never have a life like other men. That no one would ever welcome me as a husband. That I was only a charity case to be pitied at best, ridiculed at worst. Her presence rammed home just how much of nothing I really was in the eyes of everyone.”

“You weren’t nothing.”

“Don’t patronize me, Kateri,” he growled. “You weren’t there. You may have had visions about things that happened, but you didn’t really see it. You definitely didn’t live it. There’s no worse feeling than being trapped in a situation from which you can’t escape. In retrospect, I should have found the courage to walk away from all of them, but I was too afraid. I kept thinking that if this was how the people who were supposed to love me treated me, how much worse would a stranger be? Not to mention that those not related to me were every bit as cruel, if not more so. So even if I’d left, it would have been the same wherever I went. I’d be alone and outcast.” His gaze cold, he dropped his voice an octave. “And I’ve since had eleven thousand years of moving from place to place to know just how right I was. Nothing ever changes except hairstyles and clothing.”

She wanted to deny it, but she knew in her heart that he was right. People could be unbelievably cruel, and in spite of what he thought, she wasn’t naive. She’d had her own share of insensitive comments over the years.

Still, there was much he wasn’t telling her. “So what did you do when they married?”

He shrugged. “They didn’t marry. She fell in love with Buffalo the moment he spoke up for me on the day of her arrival.”

“Oh…” She cringed internally over something she hoped hadn’t been blamed on him. “I take it that didn’t go over well.”

“No. It did not.” Ren brushed his hand through his hair. “I destroyed all their lives. But for me, Coyote would have married her and they would have had a good life together.”

She didn’t believe it. “Had you not saved him, your father wouldn’t have arranged the marriage. Butterfly would have married someone else anyway.” She moved to lay her hand on his cheek. “They were responsible for their own lives, Ren. And all but Buffalo were cruel to you. You were in pain, and none of them cared.”

He started away from her, but she caught him again.

“You can trust me, Ren. You can. I would never take advantage of your heart.”

Ren wanted to believe that, but as he’d said, nothing ever changed. He never changed. “I was born broken, Kateri. I’m not like other men. I can’t have what they have.”

“You’re wrong. But I won’t push you.” She rose up on her tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then, she whispered in his ear. “And for the record, I think you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

Those words meant everything to him. Everything.
This is just more torture for you.

It was true. Her presence. Her kindness. How cruel to have her here, knowing there was nothing he could do to keep her.

And he was tired of being kicked.

“We have to leave. We’ve been lucky that nothing has found us.”

She nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

Stay with me.
He wasn’t sure where that thought came from or why it was there. It’d popped into his head before he could stop it.

“Just stay focused. I think I’ve healed enough that I should be able to get us out.”

Kateri inclined her head to him. “All right. Fingers crossed.”

*   *   *

Cabeza barely made it to Talon’s before the sky unleashed a furious blood-red downpour. Thunder clapped so hard it shook the house, while lightning flashed again and again.

“You all right?” Talon asked as Cabeza took body inventory to make sure he hadn’t been singed by anything. Or that Chacu hadn’t ripped something off while he wasn’t paying attention.

“
Si.
Yeah.” Cabeza turned to find Talon’s wife, Sunshine, on the black leather couch next to Acheron Parthenopaeus, who was holding her infant son. He did a double take on Ash’s short black hair as a sick feeling went through him. “
Madre de Dios
 … it is a sign of the Apocalypse. What happened to your hair? Did someone scalp you?”

Never in all these centuries had he seen Acheron with short hair. No matter the fashion or time period, it’d always been down to the middle of his back.

Always.

“Relax,” Ash said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “Tory and I donated our hair to Locks of Love on Bastian’s first birthday to show our appreciation for having a healthy baby. It’ll grow back.”

Grow back?

Maybe, but this … this had evil written all over it.

“Hey,” Sunshine said to Cabeza with a wide grin. “You should have seen it six months ago. It started out as a crew cut.”

Bug-eyed, Cabeza was momentarily speechless as he tried to imagine the intrepid Dark-Hunter leader with a crew cut. “Out of all the shit I’ve seen in the last two days, that is the only thing that truly frightens me. I think we just sped up the final countdown.”

Rolling his eyes at him, Acheron handed the baby back to his mother, then stood. His long, black leather coat settled down around his dark red Doc Martens. Though Acheron was the oldest of the Dark-Hunters in years, he was physically their youngest. He’d only been twenty-one when he’d died. And honestly, he looked more like a teenager until you saw his eyes. Only they betrayed his ancient age.…

And his wisdom.

Rain came out from the rear of the house. He still had a black eye from where Cabeza had rescued him in Las Vegas. “Any word on Teri?” he asked Cabeza.

“It’s worse than we thought. They are in Xibalba.”

Acheron cursed. “No wonder I couldn’t find them with my powers.” He glanced over to Rain to explain. “I can’t see into another pantheon’s hell realm without going to it physically.”

Talon let out a nervous laugh. “I try to avoid descending into hell realms as much as possible.”

Ash scratched at the back of his neck as if that comment made him uncomfortable for some reason. “Out of curiosity, do you know what level they’re in?”

“As far as I can tell, the first.”

Ash let out a relieved breath. “You think Ren knows better than to descend past the fourth level?”

Cabeza thought it over. Ash was right, if Ren and the Ixkib descended below the water level, there was no coming back. They would be in Xibalba forever. “Since it’s Mayan, I wouldn’t count on it. He might not even know where he is.”

“Well,” Talon said, “we can look on the bright side.”

This Cabeza had to hear. “And that would be?”

“No one can reach the time stone, right?”

Cabeza inclined his head to him. “True. But there is a problem.”

“And that would be?” Talon explained.

“If she doesn’t make it to the temple by week’s end, the Daimons won’t be our worst fear,
amigo.
Imagine every known piece of evil from all pantheons unleashed simultaneously on this earth. Every demon and predator that has been put down by priests and shamans for centuries…”

Ash went completely still at those words.

“Is something wrong?” Talon asked.

Ash didn’t respond. Rather, he vanished from the room where they had gathered, and took himself to his own realm. Katateros. It was the Atlantean heaven realm where their gods had once ruled their island kingdom and made war against the Greek pantheon.

It was here that Ash’s mother, Apollymi, had destroyed her family over what they’d done to Acheron when she’d been forced to hide him in the human realm.

Using his god powers, he threw open the ornate doors at the main hall and walked across the foyer where the symbol of their power lay. The moment he did, his jeans and T-shirt turned into the ancient robes of his people and his own symbol of a sun pierced by three lightning bolts appeared on the back of it.

“Alexion!” he called as he entered the throne room.

His friend and servant appeared instantly. Barely three inches shorter than Acheron, Alexion had once been an ancient Greek soldier and was one of the first Dark-Hunters Artemis had created.

He was also the first Dark-Hunter who’d died without his soul. To save him from suffering over Acheron’s mistake, Acheron had pulled him into Katateros, where Alexion existed in a noncorporeal form. While not ideal, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the alternative.

His blond hair tousled, Alexion was still buttoning his shirt. “What’s wrong, akri? You never bellow like that. Simi eat someone she shouldn’t?”

Ash ran his hand over the dragon tattoo on his forearm that was Simi in her dormant state. She was his Charonte demon and his personal bodyguard.

But more than that, she was his daughter, and he would do anything to protect her from harm.

“No, she’s fine. It was you I was worried about. Has anything happened?”

“In terms of what?”

Ash didn’t want to scare him, but at the same time he couldn’t take a chance on not warning his steward what might happen in the coming days.

“The gods might awaken.”

Alexion froze for a full minute. Then he blinked. “You mean the creepy statuary in the basement is going to start moving around?”

“If they don’t reset the calendar, yeah.” That’s exactly what’s going to happen. And when they do, they’re going to be pissed.

“Well, that sucks.” Alexion sighed. “They’re not friendly to us, are they?”

Ash shook his head. “They have one hell of a grudge against me and my mother. You, they
might
spare.”

Alexion laughed nervously. “I’m Greek and they hate us so I’m going to take that as a major nugatory. They spent a lot of time trying to kill us. So how do we stop this?”

“We have to retrieve the son of Sterope from the Mayan hell realm, along with Sunshine’s cousin.”

Feigning laugher, Alexion slapped at his thigh. “You’re hilarious, boss. You ought to do stand-up. Stop, stop, you’re killing me.”

Ash pressed his fingers to his forehead. Though he couldn’t get headaches, right now, he swore he had a migraine. “Times like this, I wish you were corporeal so I could give you a head slap.”

Alexion sobered. “In all seriousness, can you go there?”

“Yes and no. I
can,
but I don’t know what my presence in that realm might unleash. The Mayan gods have been dormant like ours. But I don’t know if that means they’re asleep or on lockdown like my mother. If they’re on lockdown…”

“A foreign god in their domain is an ugly thing.”

“Exactly.”

“So who would know the answer?”

Ash considered it. “The Chthonian in charge of them is dead. Thank you, Savitar, for that PMS.”

“Ah … So what Chthonian is in charge of South America, and are they friendly?”

“Ecanus, and he’s not on our side. He’s very much like Savitar and has withdrawn from the world to let things run their course. Since most of their gods aren’t active, neither is he. So long as the other Chthonians stay out of his territory, he doesn’t come down out of his mountain home.”

“Ah … So who do we know who can go fetch our boy?”

“I can go.”

They turned to see Urian standing in the doorway. Tall, and lethal, he had long white-blond hair that he wore in a ponytail.

Ash sucked his breath in sharply. “You’re the son of a god, too.”

“Half-god, and I’m dead and soulless. I have no allegiance to any pantheon.” Urian screwed his face up. “Except yours, of course, but no one gives a shit about the Atlanteans, no offense.”

No offense
 … why did people always use those two words whenever they knew they were being offensive, as if it excused their behavior?

Alexion laughed before he spoke to Acheron. “And here I thought I went out of my way to annoy you.” He laughed again. “Dang, Urian, you make it look so effortless.”

Urian flipped him off.

Ash ignored the two men, who argued like brothers most of the time. “You really want to go do this?” he asked Urian. “Last time I checked, you were all about killing humanity, not protecting them.”

Urian shrugged. “My father readjusted my attitude. And you’re going to need someone who can draw on major source powers to get them out of there. Someone who’s used to going in and out of hell realms.”

Urian was definitely the expert in that. His father was the leader of the vampiric Daimons the Dark-Hunters had been created to fight against. For centuries, Urian had been his right hand, until Stryker had killed Urian’s wife because Urian had lied to his father to protect her.

And if that wasn’t cold-blooded enough, then Stryker had left Urian for dead. If not for Ash, Urian wouldn’t be here now.

But more than that, Urian was the grandson of Apollo—the Greek god of the sun and plagues. It might not be a bad thought to send him in, since there was no telling what kind of pestilence might be all over Ren. If anyone could curb it, Urian would be he.

“All right, but you’ll need someone to help track them down.”

“I’ll call Sasha. Worst-case scenario, like me, he has no one to mourn him should he die valiantly from this rampant stupidity.”

Ash narrowed his gaze on one of the very few people he trusted and one of only a handful he considered family. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“I’m not talking about friendship, Acheron. We die, all of you would get over it. It’s not the same as losing your spouse or a child. As I said, we have no one to mourn us.”

Ash winced for the pain he knew Urian lived with every day. The man had watched, one by one, as all of his siblings and his mother had died or been killed. He’d lost two adopted children and countless friends. But more than that, Urian had lost his most cherished Phoebe.

His heart aching for the man, Ash spun his wedding ring around on his finger with his thumb. While he’d known how much Phoebe’s loss had crippled Urian, he now, because of his wife, Tory, had a new perspective on it that horrified him. The mere thought of losing his wife tore a hole so deep inside him that he was amazed Urian could function at all.