Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  And because of the way they fed, they smelled bad, too.

  Urian wore many hats in their world. As a warrior, he was considered a Spathi, and since he led groups into battle, he was a Rigas. Because they targeted primarily Dark-Hunters and the Squires who served them, that made him and his soldiers Dikisi Daimons.

  But the two titles that would make anyone other than the three Daimons at the table with him scorn him if they knew were that of Anaimikos and Akelos. Akelos were Daimons who only preyed on human souls that were corrupt. The very kind that often led them into turning their species into trelos Daimons. And Anaimikos were those like Davyn who fed from Paris. Daimons who fed other Daimons. Those who didn’t kill at all. They split the souls with their partners.

  It was actually very sweet what his brother had with Davyn. While Davyn couldn’t kill to eat, he would kill to protect Paris. Without hesitation and with extreme prejudice.

  And speaking of which …

  Urian didn’t mind killing to live. He felt his powers surge as the Apollites they were seeking came in.

  The other line of Apollo. Two sons. One was already a Daimon, but the other was on their list.

  He passed a knowing look to Spawn. “How are you?”

  “I could stand a charge.”

  “Then you can have the Daimon.”

  As they started to rise, a Norseman approached them. “Leaving?”

  Urian nodded.

  The large, burly, dark-haired man grinned. “Hey, Wulf! Over here!”

  Another huge Norseman inclined his head to Urian as he brushed past. “Enough, Erik Tryggvason! By the gods, you’re too loud, brother.”

  Ignoring them, Urian headed after their prey.

  October 7, 1988

  Urian’s head pounded from the voices that screamed louder and louder. It drummed to the point that he felt as if he were about to go insane and turn mad. Standing on the edge of a rooftop, he pressed his fingertips to his temple, tempted to step over the edge and end his suffering.

  Nights like this …

  It’d be real easy.

  Especially the way the frigid wind whipped through his sweater and long leather coat.

  Blinking fast, he shook his head and forced himself to focus. With a sigh, he jumped down the fire escape and was about to case the building when all of a sudden he almost landed on top of one of his targets.

  With a startled gasp, the woman looked up, shielding her face.

  Well, this wasn’t supposed to happen …

  Stunned, he wasn’t sure what to say or do as he stared into a pair of dark brown eyes set into a perfectly sculpted face. Her golden-blond hair was stylishly cut and framed her features in a way that made them appear strangely elvish.

  Up close, she was tiny and frail in appearance. Much younger than he’d have thought, but still a woman full grown.

  And she blushed.

  “Sorry! I thought I was the only one sneaking out.”

  Urian scowled. “What?”

  Wrinkling her nose in the most adorable fashion, she gestured up at the windows, then leaned forward to whisper. “I’m sneaking out past curfew to meet friends. Are you running from a boyfriend or husband who came home early?”

  He laughed at her presumption. “Neither.”

  “Oh, please don’t tell me you’re a pervert or burglar.”

  “Hardly!” Although … he was here to stalk her. Now that he thought about it, it was kind of pervy. Maybe he’d spoken too soon.

  “Then why are you on the fire escape?”

  Shit … he needed a viable excuse. “Um. I’m testing it.”

  “Testing it?”

  “Yeah. I work for the city. And uh … we’re conducting a safety check to make sure they’re in working order. You know? Can’t have them faulty.”

  She laughed. “You’re so full of shit!”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Midnight and you’re dressed like a Bond villain.” She let out an evil cackle.

  Urian wanted to hate her. He’d been sent here to kill her and her family.

  All of them.

  She and her sisters and mother were the very last of Apollo’s living line. After all these centuries of hunting and killing, they’d finally done it. Finally tracked them down to the last few.

  And this one …

  “I’m Phoebe Peters, by the way.” She held her hand out to him.

  For the love of God, don’t tell me your name! That was just wrong when he was here to kill her. “Urian.” He even shook her hand like an idiot.

  Gah, I’m a moron. Because the moment he touched that tiny little hand, he realized just how soft it was. How delicate.

  How good she smelled. How much he wanted to taste a piece of this most forbidden fruit. Especially when she looked up at him with an adorable grin.

  I’m so doomed.

  And he was. Especially when she bit her lip and he saw the tiniest flash of fang.

  She’s your enemy.

  Yet it didn’t feel that way. And his body wasn’t reacting to her like she was his enemy. In fact, he was harder than he’d ever been in his life.

  “Well, nice meeting you, Urian.” She rose up on her tiptoes, kissed him, and vanished as if she had no clue how lethal he was.

  Dismissed him! Completely stunned, he tried to get an idea where she’d gone, but his clever little bunny had gone to ground with resounding skills.

  Damn. Just damn.

  He certainly couldn’t report this. His father would put him through a wall.

  October 31, 1988

  Urian was trailing after Phoebe and her sister, Nia. He wasn’t sure where they were headed. The London street wasn’t too busy tonight. The faint strains of music could be heard blending in with traffic.

  It was so different from the old world he’d been born to.

  The women had just turned a corner when a shadow moved out in front of them.

  “Hey there, give us your purses!”

  Two more shadows, armed with knives, stepped in behind them. Terrified, Phoebe and Nia were trying to obey, but they were shaking so severely that they could barely comply. Which caused their attacker to lose patience.

  He slapped Phoebe.

  Furious, Urian rushed in before he could stop himself. He disarmed the first one he reached. Kicked the second one into the wall, yet the one who’d slapped Phoebe had the audacity to actually stab him.

  Stab him!

  Hissing as his rage mounted, Urian yanked the knife from his side, turned, and grabbed the man by his throat. He slung him into the wall and would have ripped out his jugular had Nia not screeched and reminded him that they were in a public place and this might not be a good idea.

  Phoebe rushed forward. “Urian, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God! Thank you!”

  Similar in looks, but not quite as pretty, Nia gaped at them. “You know him?”

  “I met him a couple of weeks ago.” She cast him a devilish grin. “We just kind of randomly ran into each other.”

  “Well, I’m definitely glad you ran into him tonight.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Her smile turned luminescent and did awkward things to his body in spite of the pain he was in. “You’re my hero, Urian!”

  And before he realized what she intended, she kissed him. This wasn’t just any kiss. It set him on fire.

  For reasons he couldn’t even begin to explain, she tasted like home. Pulling back, he stared down at her.

  Until he heard the police sirens.

  Shite! “I have to go.”

  Nia gaped. “You’re wounded.”

  It didn’t matter. Urian stepped back into the darkness, taking a second to take one last, lingering look at Phoebe. In the moonlight, she was exquisite.

  Until then, he hadn’t realized how numb he’d become without Xyn around to remind him how precious life was. How good things could be.

  Forget the soul exchange he had to have with humans. Her
kiss was the psuché—the breath of life.

  Damn shame I’m going to have to kill her.

  November 15, 1988

  “Okay, now this is getting creepy. Are you stalking me? Should I think about getting a restraining order?”

  Urian froze as Phoebe grabbed him from behind as he stood in the alley near her building. Her humor and nerve amazed him. No one was ever this forward where he was concerned. Most wet their pants if he so much as glanced in their direction. “Are you not afraid of me?”

  “Should I be? I mean … I was joking about the restraining order, but should I call a lawyer?”

  He laughed. “You do know that I’m a Daimon, right?”

  That finally seemed to catch her off guard. She even took a step back. “Are you?”

  He opened his mouth to show her his fangs. Like an intrepid child, she reached up to touch them.

  “Mine aren’t that large. You think it’s because my father’s human?”

  Wow … he couldn’t believe her grit. “You’re really not afraid of me at all, are you?”

  She shrugged. “I like people. Even Daimons.”

  That shocked him most of all. “Met a lot of us, have you?”

  “Not really. Most of the ones I’ve met have tried to kill me. But you saved my life, so I’m assuming you’re not one of those. You’re not one of those, are you?”

  He was definitely one of those, and yet something about her innocence reached out and wrapped itself around a heart he’d thought was long dead.

  Worse, it made him strangely protective of her.

  In a weird way, she reminded him of Nephele and his niece that he’d inherited after Theo’s death. One he’d carefully watched over and take care of, until she’d been slaughtered by Acheron’s bastard Hunters. “I’m definitely something that goes bump in the night.”

  She laughed at his bad double entendre. “You know, lines like that will get you friend-zoned.”

  He gave her his most charming grin. “Will they?”

  “Big-time!”

  Don’t tease her! She’s an infant!

  He was thousands of years old. In comparison to his ancient age, she’d only been alive for five minutes. A gross exaggeration, but not really. It was a fair comparison, all things considered.

  And still neither his heart nor his body listened.

  They were asking for the impossible.

  Her.

  You’re an idiot!

  There was no arguing that. Especially when she reached for him. Terrified of what he might do, he did the one thing he’d never done in his life.

  He turned and ran.

  Phoebe scowled at the sight of the man rushing off. Again. It was the darnedest thing. On the one hand, he seemed to always be interested and then on the other, he was as skittish as a brand-new colt.

  Men! She’d never understand them. They were all so weird. Her sisters were right. It was something with that broken Y chromosome.

  Shaking her head, she sighed and went into the condo where they were temporarily staying. Then again, that was all they ever did. She couldn’t really remember ever having a real home.

  Because she and her sisters were the last of Apollo’s line, they had been hunted since birth. By all kinds of Daimons and demons who thought that if they killed them off, it would end the Apollite curse.

  How stupid was that?

  A part of her was tempted to tell her mother about the Daimon. In the past, she would have done so without hesitation. But Phoebe knew exactly what it would mean.

  Leaving immediately. They wouldn’t even take time to pack. Her mother and father were so incredibly paranoid. All they did was tighten the noose around her neck.

  All their necks.

  What if he’s one of the ones hunting you?

  But then why would he have saved them?

  No. She didn’t believe that. There was something about him that seemed kind and sweet. She didn’t know what, but Phoebe saw something different whenever she looked at him.

  He wasn’t a monster.

  Urian was …

  She couldn’t find words. But she wanted to see him again.

  Urian sighed as he met his father’s gaze while Stryker sat on his throne in a disgruntled pique. “They’re not as easy to get to as you’d think. They’re under a lot of security.”

  His father’s nostrils twitched. “Take more men! I want them dead!”

  “I’d rather keep a lower profile at the moment. It’s just a matter of time.”

  His father actually growled at him. “Don’t fail me, Urian. We’ve come too far and we’re too close.”

  He pushed down the urge to bristle under his father’s swirling silver gaze. “I won’t fail.”

  Besides, their enemies were closer than ever before. Helios was still trying to take down Apollo, even though he and his siblings and all their children were considered dead now since they were Daimons.

  Urian didn’t know why, other than perhaps spite. But he was growing tired of the fighting and the games. Bowing to his father, he left and headed home.

  Davyn met him outside the great hall, on the street. “Are you all right?”

  No, but he didn’t want to confide in his friend right now. “Fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  Davyn would know.

  Urian gave him a droll stare. “Why are you annoying me?”

  “I like to annoy you. Besides, I know the look on your face.”

  “What look?”

  “The one that says you have someone.”

  Urian stopped dead in his tracks as horror pounded through him. This was one secret he couldn’t afford to let anyone know. Not even Davyn. “Pardon?”

  “You heard me. Who is she?”

  Urian shook his head. “You’re wrong. I have no one.”

  Davyn caught his arm and held him in place. “Don’t, Urian. This is me you’re talking to. Just like when Paris was afraid to tell your father about us because he didn’t know how he’d react. Just like when you were afraid to tell anyone about Xyn. I know you better than anyone. Who is she?”

  Damn it to hell.

  Davyn was a little ferret and whenever he had something like this, he was fixated. Either Urian told him, or he’d have no peace.

  Glancing about, Urian drew in a sharp breath. “That, I can’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

  “Does she make you happy?”

  He laughed bitterly. “I don’t know. I’ve barely spoken to her. But then, I guess the question is if anything in life ever makes anyone truly happy.”

  “No, Uri, that’s not the question. The question is, can you live without her?”

  Urian glanced down to all the teardrops on his arm and hand that marked all the people he’d loved and lost over the centuries. Including his twin. Of all the losses, Paris’s had hurt the most. He still couldn’t bear to think of it.

  And he knew how hard that death had been for Davyn. To this night, Davyn had never been able to take another husband. Had never even tried to find someone else.

  Because no one could replace Paris.

  Each death had been a gut wound. Each one a laceration to his heart that Urian had never thought to survive.

  Yet here he was.

  Numb and not.

  Damn you, life. Damn you straight to hell.

  “You really want to make that comment to me?”

  Davyn placed his hand over Urian’s tattoos and gave a hard squeeze. “How about this then, Urian? Surely after all you’ve sacrificed and done for your people, after all you’ve lost in your lifetime, don’t you think you deserve for the heavens to send down an angel to finally save you?”

  November 29, 1988

  At midnight, Urian tapped on Phoebe’s bedroom window.

  Dressed in a pink dorm shirt and thick yellow bathrobe, she pulled back the curtains to see him there. Her eyes widened. Then she immediately let out a squeak and ran to a mirror to check her hair.

  While he wa
ited outside.

  Baffled, he watched her quickly brush her hair, remove a retainer, and then sniff daintily at her armpits. Then, remembering that he could see her, she covered her face with her hands and appeared mortified.

  He laughed at her antics. Though why he found them so funny, he had no idea. Not to mention, he was surprised that she could see her reflection while he and his kind couldn’t. It must be because she was part human that she didn’t have that part of their Apollite curse.

  Slowly, she made her way back to the window and opened it. “Tell me that you didn’t see what I just did.”

  Urian laughed again. “No worries. I didn’t see you sniff anything.”

  “Oh my God!” She began repeating that in an endless loop.

  He scowled at her. “Did I break you? Are you stuck like that? Should I thump you out of that rut?”

  She stopped and turned back to face him. “What?”

  “At least that worked.”

  Cocking her head, she stared at him. “Why are you still hovering on the fire escape?”

  “I have no choice. You haven’t invited me in.”

  “Oh.” Then her eyes widened even more as she remembered he was a Daimon. She glanced around her room for a second as if debating whether she should break protocol. Finally, she bit her lip and whispered, “Come in.”

  Urian slowly entered her bedroom. It’d been a long time since he’d been inside the home of anyone else. As a Daimon, he didn’t get to randomly venture into many places. Only those that were public domain, or homes of friends and family.

  This one was very different from anything he’d been in before. Decorated in tans and pinks, it was very …

  Feminine.

  Right down to the posters of boy bands that littered the walls. “Interesting wallpaper. Duran Duran?”

  “ ‘New Moon on Monday’ is my all-time favorite song. Do you like them?”

  Not really. “More of a Krokus ‘Screaming in the Night’ or ‘Eat the Rich’ or a Sex Pistols ‘Anarchy in the UK’ kind of guy.”

  She nodded. “Ah, that makes sense. Being a Daimon and all.”

  A sharp knock sounded on her door. “Pheebs?”

  She motioned him to silence. “Yeah, Mom?”