Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28)

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  “Who are you talking to?”

  She ran to her door and cracked it open. “Myself. Sorry. I’ll go to bed. Didn’t mean to keep you up. Love you.” She kissed her mom’s cheek, then closed and locked the door.

  After taking a small detour to turn on her radio, she returned to Urian and pulled him as far away from the door as she could.

  His heart pounded to be this close to her while she wore so little. And he couldn’t help wondering if she had on anything beneath her dorm shirt …

  There in the dim light they stood. Not touching with barely a hand’s breadth of distance between them. Urian kept his hands to his sides and yet he could feel every inch of her body with his. Her presence was so vibrant that it was like an all-over caress.

  Her dark eyes sparkled as she looked up at him with wonder and excitement. How strange that he who had lived for so long and had done so much evil in the name of his father felt suddenly reborn in those eyes.

  Felt recast as something other than what he was.

  A monster who killed innocent people in order to live.

  Yet Phoebe didn’t see a Daimon to be feared or a demon to be hated.

  Phoebe saw a man.

  A hero.

  God, how he wanted to be that. To see the good in others, even though he knew them for the evil they were. To be anything other than the shattered, unfeeling shell who’d been walking this earth for so long, hurting and aching and lost. Wanting to feel something more than abandoned and forgotten.

  Wanting to be part of someone.

  To be loved and claimed.

  It’d been so long since anyone had really cared.

  Unable to resist her or the part of him that was still human, he reached for his last lifeline and pulled her against his chest for the one true psuché.

  Phoebe closed her eyes as she tasted a passion the likes of which she’d never imagined. This was what she’d read about in those books Nia kept hidden from their mother. What the poets went mad trying to capture on paper. The passion that Hollywood never quite got right.

  Savoring the taste and smell of her beautiful Daimon, she reached up and freed his white-blond hair so that it fell loose about his shoulders. Then she buried her hands in it.

  Holy heaven! He was gorgeous beyond compare! Every part of her was on fire as she felt that hard, honed body flexing around hers.

  He buried his lips against her throat as he picked her up and pressed her back against the wall.

  Phoebe lifted her legs from the floor and wrapped them about his waist as chills ran up and down her entire body.

  She was on fire. Until he sank his fangs into her neck. The moment he did that, her body exploded with pleasure the likes of which was indescribable. She shook from the force of her very first orgasm.

  Urian growled as he tasted her pleasure. Wanting more of that sweetness, he slid his hand down under her shirt and beneath the elastic band of her panties to the sweet moisture so the he could stroke her and let her ride his fingers while he fed.

  Phoebe groaned as he worked magic on her. Wanting more, she moved to bite him.

  Urian immediately withdrew. “No!”

  Panting and shaking, he stepped to the other side of the room. Every bit as disoriented, she scowled at him. “Why did you stop?”

  “If you bite me, you’ll become a Daimon.” He wiped at the sweat on his brow. “You can feed me, but I can’t feed you.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Welcome to Kalosis,” he said bitterly. “That’s where I live.” He headed for the window.

  “Urian, wait!”

  “No, Phoebe.” He glanced to her door. “This is a mistake. Everything I touch, I destroy. And I don’t want to destroy you.”

  Not anymore. Not even if his father killed him for it.

  And he would.

  March 4, 1989

  Stryker paced his office furiously. His commanders were gathered there as he reamed them all.

  Including Urian.

  “They’re mortal. Mere Apollites. How in the name of Hades can they continue to elude my best strike teams? You are Illuminati, are you not?”

  Allegra and Trates turned away.

  Urian met his gaze without flinching. Mostly because he was the reason. He’d personally killed two of the Daimons his father had sent after Phoebe. But he wasn’t about to tell him that.

  His father would gut him on the spot.

  He curled his lips at them. “Get out of my sight!”

  Urian headed out the doors, but not before Trates took his arm.

  “Why are they failing?”

  Urian shrugged as he gave Trates a reason other than the truth—that he’d killed them. “Jefferson Peters has a lot of resources. He’s spending them all to protect his daughters.”

  Trates shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Life seldom does.” And that was an understatement. Especially here lately. Nothing about his life made any kind of sense at all. He was living all kinds of lies and having to hide from everyone around him.

  Apollymi. His father.

  Even Davyn.

  Whenever he was away from Phoebe, he began to doubt his sanity for throwing his life into this kind of chaos. And for what?

  They hadn’t even slept together.

  Then just when he had himself convinced that he would sever the ties and break it off, he’d see her and all rationale fled. One smile. One frown.

  He was undone.

  And her tears absolutely devastated him.

  I’m so screwed.

  Sighing, he stepped into the portal and headed to Zurich. Phoebe had sent over a Vax note with her new address a short time ago. Her parents would kill her if they knew what she was doing.

  That she was sending their updated addresses to the very leader of the group out to kill them all.

  But it was a risk they were both willing to take.

  Urian straightened his jacket the minute he was out of the portal and in Zurich. He checked the time.

  “Here, you little inkblot.”

  A tic started in his jaw as he heard that lovely little insult some jack-off Dark-Hunter had come up with for them, thinking it was cute. It stemmed from the dark mark over their heart from the souls.

  Pursing his lips, Urian crossed his arms and turned toward the tall, muscular beast and let out a bored sigh. “What? Did you burn out your last remaining brain cell coming up with that one?”

  The Dark-Hunter flicked his wrist to release a spring-loaded dagger. “And here I thought I’d have a long patrol tonight. Where are your friends?”

  “Got bored. Ate them. Decided I’d troll for bottom feeders, and I found you—lowest of the low. Lucky me.”

  The Dark-Hunter lunged at him.

  Urian tsked. “What? Are you rusty or new?”

  Shrieking in rage, he countered with an upward cut. Urian blocked it with his hands and used his toes to release the dagger in his boot. He scissor-kicked the Dark-Hunter and slashed him across the chest.

  He hissed in pain and staggered back.

  “You might want to call your Squire and let him know you won’t be coming home.”

  The Dark-Hunter rushed him.

  Urian released his razor wire from his vambrace and caught him around the neck. With one twist and a sidestep, he snapped the Dark-Hunter’s head from his body.

  Luckily, they tended to decay almost as fast as a Daimon. They just left a bigger pile of dust that quickly blew away.

  “Sorry.” Urian sighed as he knelt down to collect the Hunter’s weapon and ID. He always made sure to notify the Squire’s Council that oversaw Dark-Hunter care whenever they killed one so that they’d know who died.

  It was an odd thing to do, but he felt like he owed it to them. While Dark-Hunters didn’t have families per se, they did have Squires and other Hunters who were attached to them.

  The worst thing in the world was to not know what happened to someone you loved. To be left waiting for the
m to come home again.

  His stomach grew tight as he thought about Xyn. Even after all these centuries, he still missed her and wondered what had happened. If maybe, by some miracle, one day he’d pass her on the street.

  It was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. The not knowing was its own form of hell. And that endless, miserable hope.

  Yeah, he couldn’t do that to someone else. So he always made sure to let them know they had a Hunter KIA. As a soldier, he considered it an act of mutual respect for a comrade-in-arms. While they might be enemies, they were both fighting for what they thought was right.

  Both protecting what they loved.

  Urian looked at the Hunter’s license to see his grim smile. Cuthbert Ruriksen. Yeah, he looked like a Viking bastard from back in the day.

  Remembering how they’d been in more primitive times, he slid the license and sword into his pocket and drifted back into the darkness.

  By the time he finally found Phoebe’s new apartment, it was late. He’d expected to have to try to find a way to get her attention.

  Instead, she was on the street and almost ran into him in her mindless rush to nowhere particular.

  “Hey! What’s going on?”

  She threw herself against him. “Take me home with you! Now!”

  Urian held her against his chest and scowled. “Um, okay. Sure. My father would probably eat you alive, but sure. I could do that for you if suicide is really what you’re going for.”

  She hit his chest with her fist. Not hard enough to hurt, but just out of frustration. “I don’t want to stay here, Uri. I’m done!”

  Seriously concerned, he cupped her face in his hands. “What’s going on?”

  With a ragged sigh, she gestured back toward the apartment building she’d been fleeing. “You don’t know what it’s like to have so many rules and dictates. All the time! I live under a microscope! I can’t change my mind without permission!”

  “Yeah, no idea what that’s like. At all.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

  She glared at him. “Not the same.”

  He arched a smug brow at her.

  “Don’t look so gorgeous at me. I’m not in the mood. Be angry on my behalf.”

  He bared his fangs.

  She laughed and hugged him.

  Closing his eyes as he sighed in contentment, Urian cuddled her close and rested his chin against her head. “Is it really that bad?”

  “Yes. They want me to wear body armor.”

  “I want you to wear body armor.”

  “Not funny.”

  “Dead serious.”

  He could actually feel Phoebe rolling her eyes against his chest. “So where were you heading just now?”

  She pulled back to glare up at him. “You’re not really going to lecture me, too, are you?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Don’t make me rack you. I’m a lot closer to your balls right now, buddy.”

  “Well, if that’s what it takes to get you to touch them …”

  She gaped at him. “You did not just go there while we’re arguing.”

  “I’m a man. Of course I went there. And it’s not my fault, anyway. You’re the one who brought my balls into it first.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I did, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah.” His voice dropped an octave. Not that it was his fault. Unlike him, she could eat real food and take transfusions for her blood cravings.

  Since they’d started seeing each other, he’d stopped feeding from anyone other than Phoebe. And since he couldn’t see her every day, it meant that when he did get to see her, he was starving.

  Like now.

  Phoebe bit her lip. “I have bad news, by the way.”

  “What?”

  “I have to share a room with my sister in the new apartment. It’s tiny.”

  That was bad news.

  “But …” She jerked her chin down the street in the direction she’d been headed. “I found a hotel nearby.”

  “So you did have a destination.”

  “Of course. I’m not completely stupid. I am a Peters, you know? Armed with a credit card and ready to charge like a demon.” She winked. “Checked in earlier today.” She pulled the key out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Room 1452.”

  “All right. I still worry about you.”

  “Good, ’cause I worry about you.”

  When he went to drape his arm around her shoulders, she gasped. “Is that blood?”

  Too late, Urian realized he’d left a little Dark-Hunter DNA on his sleeve. “Um … maybe.”

  “Yours?”

  He started to lie, but she was the one person he didn’t want to lie to. “No.”

  Her eyes flared with fury. “Who was she? Huh?” She shoved him back.

  Now there was a place he hadn’t expected her mind to go. Stunned, he gaped at her accusation that reminded him a lot of one of Xanthia’s irrational rants. “She was a he, and he tried to kill me on my way over.” He pulled the ID out of his pocket to show it to her. Now he was twice as grateful he’d gone to the trouble of getting it. “A huge Dark-Hunter bastard.”

  “Was he really six foot nine? Three hundred pounds?”

  “Sounds about right. Though that was muscle weight. He had arms like tree trunks.”

  “He could have crushed you!”

  “Trust me, I know. I had a brother about his size. Ophie used to sit on me for hours just to piss me off when we were kids. Him and Archie both would take turns slinging me around the yard like a rag doll.”

  Reaching up, she pulled his lips to hers. “I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get so angry. I just can’t stand the thought of you with another woman.”

  “I would never do that to you.”

  With a smile, she nibbled his lips. “Take me to the room.”

  Urian was tempted to use his powers, but since he’d never been in the hotel before, that was a bad idea. His luck, he’d land them inside a wall or something a lot worse.

  So he had to pretend he was “human.” Gah, the horror of that!

  But at least she’d chosen an elegant hotel. Victorian in style, it was quaint and lush.

  Urian expected Phoebe to lead him to a regular room. Instead, she’d booked the penthouse suite. While it was true that he’d grown up in a palace and a temple, they were rather cold and austere.

  He’d never seen anything like the luxuries in this place. Nor lights so bright. He held his hand up to shield his eyes as they watered in protest of the giant crystal chandelier.

  “Sorry!” Phoebe immediately began turning lights down or off. “I forgot how sensitive your eyes are.”

  Urian rubbed his eyes as he walked around. “What is that?”

  She scowled at him. “The couch?”

  “Yeah. Is it a bed?”

  Phoebe was stunned until she realized something. “You don’t ever stay out in my world, do you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just what I said. You visit here to nab a soul and then immediately leave, don’t you? You’ve never watched TV or really taken time to experience any real part of it.”

  He shook his head.

  Her heart broke for him. All the history he’d lived through but not experienced. Heartbroken, she reached for the remote and turned the television on.

  To that, he gave her an irritated glare. “I know about TV, Pheebs. Not an idiot. They have those everywhere. Even bars.”

  “Oh.” Yeah, that would be the one place he’d have spent a lot of time. Der. She should have thought of that. She felt like a fool now.

  Until she thought of one thing she knew they didn’t have in a bar …

  “Bet you’ve never had a Jacuzzi bath.”

  “A what?”

  “Yeah … a what!” Crooking her finger, she motioned for him to follow her.

  She also watched the way his gorgeous blues darted around the moldings and art, as well as the wall decorations. He ran his finger down the gold flocke
d wallpaper to the marble bathroom, where he gasped. “Yeah, indoor plumbing.”

  He cast her another droll stare.

  “Okay, so you’ve probably visited a men’s room, too.”

  “A few times, yeah.”

  “But not this!” She plugged the tub and began to run water from the ornate faucet shaped like a swan. While it ran, she turned on music through the intercom and began to slowly peel her clothes off.

  If she lived to be a thousand years old, she’d never forget the look on his face as he stood in the doorway, completely catatonic. Laughing, she approached him and hooked her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. “Charonte got your tongue?”

  Urian had no response as she slowly unzipped his pants. Her pace was excruciating. And when she dipped her hand down low to cup him, he thought he’d die on the spot. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had touched him so intimately—decades? Centuries? He knew this was all kinds of wrong. But one look in those innocent eyes and he was lost.

  Laughing, she rose up to kiss him.

  He cupped her face and then trailed his hands down her shoulders and over her soft skin, to her back and buttocks to press her closer to him so that he could feel her curves meld to his body. He leaned his head back as she peeled his coat off, then pulled his shirt off over his head.

  Phoebe hesitated as she saw the scars that marred the perfection of Urian’s chest. She’d never seen him unclothed before. Because he’d always visited her in her room, they hadn’t dared.

  But damn. While she’d known he was battle hardened, seeing it was a different story. There were fresh and healing bruises as well as scratches, all over him. Her heart wrenched at the sight. Biting her lip, she traced them with her fingertips, until she got to the Daimon mark at the center of his chest, over his heart. “Does it hurt?”

  “No.”

  It looked like a big bruise. One that was larger than her hand. No wonder it was so easy for a Dark-Hunter to kill them. “Do they have to pierce it in the center or just nick it anywhere?”

  He tilted his head to look down at her hand. “You know, I’ve never really thought about that. Thanks, Phee, for giving me something else to worry about in a fight.”

  She laughed. “Well, you do have to think about it, you know?”

  “Hmmm.”

  Kissing his mark, she tongued her way across his chest to his peculiar phoenix-dragon tattoo. “What’s this for?”