The Dark-Hunters (833 page)
Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Vampires, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
Their Bark Has Nothing on Their Bite
Mr. Sandman, Your New Best Friend
Can’t Live With Them, Can’t Live Without Them
Apollites and the Origin and Weaknesses of Daimons
Dealing with Demons, Demigods, Deities, and All Other Things Immortal
Conversational Atlantean for the World Traveler
Insight into Being and Speaking Greek
A Brief Tour of New Orleans and Cajun Culture
Interview with Sherrilyn Kenyon
G
OODY
-G
OODY
G
UMDROPS
: B
ONUS
M
ATERIAL
Synopsis for
Saving Grace
and Deleted Scenes from
Night Embrace
and
Seize the Night
Reading Order of the Dark-Hunter Stories and Novels
Introduction
Look what the cow dragged in.
—Artemis
Congratulations!
If you’re reading this, you’ve activated your Dark-Hunter decoder ring or recited whatever ridiculous nursery rhyme Ash thought up this week to decipher this amazingly complicated, intriguing, and mysterious text.
You’ve also found yourself neck-deep in the biggest pit of divine quicksand this side of the hereafter.
Right now I’m guessing you’re a bit confused, and your mind is full of whos, whats, whens, whys, and hows that haven’t exactly been answered by a certain representative of upper management who is as arrogant as he is tall and in severe need of a haircut. (Trust me, you’re not alone. Get used to it. P.S. Don’t tell Ash about the hair comment as I’d like to continue breathing for a bit longer, and if I’m dead, you’re screwed.)
’Cause I’m here to sort you out.
Lucky you!
Here’s the situation in a nutshell: You’ve bought the farm on a dead-end street. You’ve bitten both the bullet and the apple, my friend. Your soul cried out for vengeance and I certainly hope you took advantage of it. You should have listened to your mama when she told you to be careful what you wish for. You got more than you bargained for, and there’s no going back. We don’t do things that way ’round these parts.
I’m here to tell you what you’ve won.
Consider this handbook your education. Hunter 101. And don’t go thinking you got off easy just because there’s not a pop quiz at the end.
This is the good stuff. The real deal. In here you’ll find out all there is to know about being a Dark-Hunter. How to live. How to kill. Where to go to buy weapons. Where to socialize. Who to talk to … and who
not
to talk to. Your physical attributes—what you’ve lost and what you’ve gained. There’s also a history lesson or seven inside that it would behoove you to sit through—one of the first things you’ll need to learn is that ancient gods have a habit of popping up in the strangest places. Knowledge is power.
Always has been; always will be.
And stupidity kills. Trust me.
Now for the disclaimer: This book is mutable. It goes with the wind. It changes more often than the mind of a sixteen-year-old Libra with a closet full of clothes and a date in an hour. It’s been around for-almost-ever and it’s still a continual work-in-progress, kind of like Earth herself. Don’t be surprised if you open it up for the 35,000th time and find something old, something new, something borrowed, or … well, you get the point.
This book also won’t get
too
deep into the nitty-gritty. You understand there’s only so much we can put in print that we wouldn’t mind Daimons and pesky Squires (Hey Squire, you think you’re the first one to stumble across this book? Hah!) getting their grubby mitts on. The real down and dirty stuff you’ll have to ask the tight-lipped Goth Royal Tallness himself.
Yeah. I wish you a lot of luck with that. I’m sorry but I have to pause so that I can laugh.…
12:01
12:07
12:16
Back and sober. (Clearing throat) There are other ways to find out certain little secrets, of course … but those are not for me to divulge. If you are resourceful enough, if you’re in the right place at the right time and you have the right passwords and proper identification, it won’t be much of a challenge.
At this point, while I’m sure you’re appreciating all the knowledgey goodness I’m about to fork over, you might be feeling a little sorry for me—the poor sucker who’s been conned into compiling all this nonsense for you then, now, always, and forever until the end of time. Let me set your lovely, selfless mind at ease. Please remember, there are very few people to whom Acheron Parthenopaeus owes a favor.
I am one of them.
So I’ll leave you to it then. Curl up in a comfy chair with some millennium-old scotch and feast upon the informative banquet I have prepared for your enjoyment.
Welcome to your new life.
Go kick some ass.
—
Alethea
So Now You’re a Dark-Hunter
…
What to Do, What Not to Do, and How to Royally Screw It All Up
We’re not the damned, folks, we’re the categorically fucked.
—Urian
Take a deep breath.
Turn out the lights.
The reason you’re having a hard time reading this is because the eyesight of a Dark-Hunter is the first, and possibly the most difficult, thing to adjust to. Birth is hard, especially the second time around. We’ll go in baby steps, all right? Take your time. Are the lights out? Pull the shades, twist the blinds, and put blankets over the curtains.
Sounds insane, I know, but you’re going to have to trust somebody sometime. That guy you met on the way in? That’s Acheron. When the world inevitably goes to hell, he’s one of the only people you will always be able to trust.
I’m one of the other ones.
Now, light a candle. But don’t look straight at it since it’ll only hurt more.
Here, I’ll do the same thing so you don’t feel like you’re the only weirdo in the universe.
Go on, trust me. You may as well. I’ll keep reminding you, so you won’t forget. What else have you got to lose?
See, I know you that well and we’ve barely even met.
So.
You with me?
First lesson: Candlelight and firelight are second only to moonlight when it comes to enhancing a Dark-Hunter’s vision. It makes sense if you think about it—these natural sources of illumination are instruments of the gods. Our Dear Lady Artemis is the goddess of the Moon. You are a product of Artemis’s handiwork, therefore you are able to see better by the light of her totem.
Honestly, come on. Have you ever heard of the god of Neon or the goddess of Fluorescence?
I rest my case.
But what if it’s nighttime?
you ask.
If I can see better by moonlight, why did I just block up all the windows?
Three reasons.
Three is a significant number among the gods, didn’t you know? Well, you do now.
One: You have to think outside the box for a minute. You can do it.… I’ll give you a couple of seconds just in case you need them.
Humans are creatures of habit and, despite their amazing innate evolutionary ability to adapt to their environment, they are exceptionally averse to change. People notice change, but they aren’t bothered by sameness. Constancy flies under the radar. If you shut up your windows every day and open them wide every night, someone will notice and wonder why. If you just leave them closed—or go so far as to block or board them up—it will be speculated upon and then shrugged off once the guy down the street brings a strange woman home, or the woman next door forgets to wheel her garbage to the curb.
Two: In a perfect world, Dark-Hunters sleep all day and hunt Daimons all night. Of course, if this world were perfect there wouldn’t
be
any Daimons or Dark-Hunters. Curses wouldn’t exist, the gods would never get angry, we would all love one another, and everything would be rainbows and puppies.
If you’re anything like any of your predecessors, you’re going to work your ass off all hours of the day and night. You will never be able to predict when you’re coming or going—where your next nap or your next meal will be coming from. (Unless you have latent psychic abilities, but for the purposes of this discussion let’s assume you don’t.) I hear from the ancient Greeks that it’s a bit like the army.
Even on cloudy days, daylight is still daylight. There will come a night when you inevitably sleep well past sunrise. That moment, you’ll be thanking me for not having to wake up on fire.
Which brings us to three: about that fire.
I’m assuming you’ve got that candle lit by now. In many ways, that tiny dynamic flicker of energy is the perfect representation of your existence. It can be small, simple, and easy to manipulate. It can be wild, passionate, and unstoppable. It can feed; it can consume. It can save lives just as effortlessly as it can kill.
Above all, its very existence is among the first substantial evidence of the true wrath of the gods.
You know Prometheus, right? (No, I don’t mean personally, you nitwit. Though if you do, tell him I said “Hi” next time you see him. And remind him that he owes me five bucks.)
Consider the candle.
Exhibit A.
Prometheus was a Titan, one of the giants who inhabited the earth before humans. In fact, Prometheus is sometimes credited with making the human race from the earth, in the image of the gods. Perhaps he felt like a father to humans, complete with a sense of protection and obligation. He taught humans the basics of civilization by bringing them fire down from the hearth of Mount Olympus, magic firsthand like none of them had ever witnessed before.
He introduced the world as we know it to … well … the world as it used to be. In his humility, Prometheus took something that only the gods had complete power over, and he did it for the good and the survival and the progression of mankind. Humans stayed warm. They cooked their food. They thrived. They lived. They evolved.
The gods, however, did not see it that way. They didn’t exactly warm to the thought of a more level playing field. They never do. The gods are gods because they are worshipped. A god who is not worshipped loses power. Humans with power begin to question their gods. What Prometheus did for the world not only shook Mount Olympus to its core, it fractured its foundation.
It also doomed Prometheus—who held the secret to how the gods could remain the ultimate power in the universe … but would not tell them.
Zeus, in his rage, chained Prometheus to a rock and left him to the carrion birds. Every day, his liver is eaten out by a vulture; and every night, it grows back again. Over and over and over, until the end of time. Pretty much forever-and-ever. Amen.
Now.
Consider the candle.
It is a testament to what you are—a player in the game set into motion by the wrath of the gods. An immortal being charged with a secret, and the protection of the human race. You are a champion who bears a burden of tremendous responsibility … and tremendous suffering. But don’t lose faith. Just remember: You wouldn’t have been chosen if you weren’t strong enough to handle what you’re about to face.