And still a part of Stryker had refused to believe it. In the back of his mind, he’d convinced himself that Urian’s enemies had concocted a lie to put distance in his heart for his son. To spread discord in their house. After all, it was just the sort of thing they would do.
That was easier to believe than his son had betrayed him.
But he hadn’t been able to let it go. And so he’d gone to Elysia and there he’d met Phoebe himself.
The stupid chit had no idea who he was. She’d sat one afternoon and talked to him about the most asinine of topics until he’d wanted to strangle her. Why Urian had wanted to marry her, he couldn’t imagine. While she was pretty enough, she was immature and insipid. Gossipy about Hollywood starlets and soap operas. Things Urian would know nothing about and care even less for.
He’d tried to understand their relationship and had left even more baffled.
Then he’d waited for Urian to tell him the truth.
Stryker had dropped hints that he knew. But Urian had deftly turned the topic to something else.
Until that fateful night …
Everything had gone wrong.
He’d learned about Acheron being the true son of Apollymi and her lies to him. That had hit him like a sledgehammer. All these years, he’d thought Apostolos was dead and that he was her chosen son.
Instead, he’d found out that he was a puppet and Acheron was her beloved child. It had gutted him. Worse, Urian had killed their own to protect the bitch he knew Stryker wanted dead.
So when Shanus’s call had come in while Urian was out that Phoebe had gone trelos …
Stryker had been torn between his duty as a father and to his people, and his fury over being betrayed. When he’d gone there, his intention had been to kill Phoebe. To unleash his wrath on her for the lives she’d taken.
They’d fought and fought.
In the end, he’d been unable to do it. For the first time in his life, Stryker had shown mercy. Instead of killing her, he’d brought her back to Kalosis and locked her up. His intention had been to tell Urian later and let him deal with her.
Then when they’d faced Acheron and Wulf in Dante’s Inferno … he’d absolutely lost his fucking mind. Acheron, a two-bit whore, loved by Apollymi in spite of turning against her and her cause, surrounded by countless Hunters who were loyal and willing to die for him, in all his smugness. For Acheron to stand there, taunting and judging him when all he was trying to do was save his people.… And Apollymi with her taunting him about Urian’s betrayal when he’d done nothing to deserve it.
Because in the end, Stryker had only had one person in his entire life he could depend on. One person he could love. One person who loved him. And the gods had taken her from him.
Everyone else used him and lied while they did so. They tried to kill him or threw him away like he was garbage. Or worse, the gods took them from him and left him barren and alone.
Except for Urian. He was the only one Stryker had depended on and needed.
Then to find out that the one and only person he thought he could rely on was also a fraud …
It’d shattered him. The pain of losing that sole person in his world who loved him had been more than he could bear. It had destroyed him and so he’d lashed out and done to Urian what the entire world had done to him since the moment he’d been violently thrust from his mother’s womb into the cold and unfeeling hands of a wet nurse who’d rather see him dead than fed.
But even then, he’d known that Acheron wouldn’t let his son die. Stryker had merely severed their bond so that Urian couldn’t hurt him anymore.
Because Stryker knew that Urian was the one and only person who would always have the power to bring him to his knees.
He was his son. His beautiful boy. Regardless of what Urian did or how badly he hurt him.
The bastard was his son. And Stryker would always love him. No matter what pain Urian gave him, he wouldn’t care.
It was why he’d kept Phoebe alive. Even though Stryker knew he should kill her. That so long as she lived, she was a danger. He couldn’t do it. He could lie to himself and everyone else about why he’d done what he’d done. He could lie about what happened to Phoebe. Tell them all that he’d killed her and cut Urian’s throat.
It changed nothing. Because he couldn’t kill what his son loved. And though he could cut his son’s throat, he couldn’t kill his boy.
Worse, Stryker had relived that day a million times over and had lashed himself with guilt and remorse. With so many could-haves and should-haves. He would sell his soul for one chance to go back and change what he’d done to them.
That was why he didn’t believe hell was real. Life was hell. It existed solely to torment the living, and death was the reward for having endured it.
Stryker choked on tears he hadn’t realized were falling until Bethany dropped her hand from his face, released from the nightmares of his past.
At some point during the horrors, Zephyra had pressed herself against his back to comfort him and had buried her hand in his hair.
His breathing ragged, Stryker wasn’t sure what to expect from Styxx and Bethany. Given the memories of Urian he’d just passed to them, he half-expected both Styxx and Bethany to gut him where he stood.
Instead, Styxx jerked him forward into a fierce embrace. When he whispered in his ear, his voice was thick with emotion. “From this day forward, we are brothers, Stryker. I will never again consider you my enemy.”
Swallowing hard, he nodded.
Likewise, Bethany wiped away her own tears. “Thank you for loving my son so. I am honored to share him with you. Now let’s find him so we can both set his ass on fire.”
What do you mean, we’re lost?” Urian glared at Davyn. They had barely gotten to him in time with the dragonstone before the gallu had struck and killed him. Even so, their rescue wasn’t going quite as planned.
“I’m still weak from my attack, so my tracking abilities are down.”
“Why isn’t he a gallu?” Blaise asked. “I thought everyone they attacked converted.”
“Not if you eat one of them first.” Davyn flashed him a grin. “You get all kinds of perks, we learned. Ability to walk in daylight. And a freaky immunity to their bites.”
Xander scowled. “So it’s like a cure?”
“If we have enough gallu to go around, yeah. That’s why we’ve been leaving Dark-Hunters alone these last few years. You’re not our primary targets anymore. The gallu are.”
Xander gaped and turned toward Urian. “Did you know that?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?”
“No, they don’t.” Xander’s phone started ringing. The shocked expression on his face was quite comic. “There’s cell service in hell?”
Davyn laughed. “We have cable and Internet, too. Hell would not be complete without reality TV and telemarketers.”
Snorting at his sarcasm, Xander answered his phone. And the soft, tender way the tough guy spoke made them all stop and stare at him.
“Hey, baby. No, I’m sorry. I should have left a note, but it was Ash and it came up suddenly. Yeah, I’m a thoughtless ass, you know that.” He paused to glare at them. “Be back soon … you, too. Bye.” In a huff, he hung it up and slid it into his pocket. “What, you jackals?”
Davyn’s eyes widened. “Thought Dark-Hunters couldn’t have a girlfriend?”
“Could be my boyfriend, you don’t know.” Xander pushed past him.
Davyn let out an evil laugh. “Actually, I do. And if you were family, brother, I’d be all over that—” He glanced down to Xander’s ass. “Believe you me. Anytime you’re ready to turn, give me a shout.”
Rolling his eyes, Xander cast his gaze around at the lot of them. “It’s none of anyone’s business.”
Urian passed a knowing look to Xyn. He knew that level of pissed off. That was a man who had a serious relationship with someone he wasn’t supposed to and didn’t want to discuss it.
Wow …
> And he thought he had problems.
Which he did, hence this trip through hell.
“Where exactly are we?” Blaise asked.
“A dark and bitter forest.”
He snorted at Xyn’s answer. “Ha ha, sis. Ha ha. Not what I meant. What is this place used for?”
“This is a no-man’s-land.” Urian pointed toward the dark wall to their left that was covered with steeled thorns. “What you want to avoid is crossing to the barrier lands where the souls of the damned reside. Those are some nasty bastards. Back in the day, some of the stronger Apollites tried to feed off their souls.”
“Did not go well for them.” Davyn shuddered.
“Yeah. We had a huge problem with trelos outbreaks. But when you’re desperate enough … you do dumb shit.”
Xander stopped dead in his tracks to stare at them. “So what? Your people ate the souls that were here?”
Urian nodded. “Not like we had a lot of choice.” He jerked his chin toward the barrier. “My father, with Apollymi’s help, erected that barrier when we were teens to help confine the most corrupt souls that he feared our people couldn’t handle.”
A strange glow came over Xander’s body. He turned a slow circle.
“Not all the gods are dead here.”
Shadow drew up short. “He’s right. I feel it, too.”
Urian sensed nothing. He turned toward Xyn.
“I’ve got nothing. It feels the same as it always has.”
Xander held his hand out toward Shadow. Without hesitation, Shadow took it. The two of them grew quiet as a breeze began to blow around their small group.
Urian moved to cover Xyn and Brogan, along with Blaise and Davyn. His arm began to glow even though he couldn’t sense whatever they were picking up on.
“I’m still getting nothing.”
Shadow looked at that wall. “I think it’s coming from in there.”
“Could a god have gotten in?”
Xyn had a bad feeling when Brogan asked her question. “Or was she or he already inside when they were put there?”
And made stronger.
That was a terrifying thought.
“Anyone else getting an ulcer?” Blaise gulped audibly.
“Mine just had twins,” Shadow said with a sigh. “Mazel tov!”
“Let’s back away from the barrier.” Xyn grabbed Urian and pulled him toward the city where the Daimons lived.
“You think Phoebe might have taken refuge there?”
Urian really didn’t like Xander’s question. “It’s possible. But—” He broke off as he felt the strangest sensation.
Like something slithering up his legs. His head began to spin.
“Urian?”
He heard Xyn, but he couldn’t respond. Or move. His breathing turned thick and ragged. Everything spun.
One moment he was reaching for Xyn and the next …
He was in a vortex. Only he hadn’t summoned a portal. Rushing winds filled his ears as he tried to get his bearings to figure out where he was going and how he’d stumbled into one when he hadn’t been moving.
When he hit the ground, it was so hard it broke the band holding his hair, causing it to spill out over his shoulders. Worse, he smacked his head against the concrete hard enough to momentarily rattle his senses.
He hadn’t been hit that hard since Archie had sucker-punched him. Damn, he’d forgotten how bad it hurt to be hit unexpectedly. Pushing himself up, he blinked and scanned the huge, cold room to find himself inside an ancient temple similar to Apollymi’s.
Only this one was made of deep, glittering obsidian. Large jade pots were set apart every few feet so that they could burn with an unholy green fire that cast eerie shadows on the walls.
“I would apologize for the rough landing, but I only wish it’d been harder for you.”
Urian froze at the sound of Phoebe’s bitter voice. Shocked, he turned around to find her sitting on a throne almost identical to Stryker’s. That was stunning enough.
But it wasn’t the most jaw-dropping element.
Oh no … not by a long shot. Gone was his timid, sweet little wife. The woman on that throne had her golden hair teased up and braided in an elaborate, ancient Atlantean style. Dressed in a sheer, shimmering gown, she was a thing of exquisite beauty who had more in common with Apollymi than his shy bride.
“Charonte got your tongue?”
She wasn’t trelos … or was she?
This Phoebe reminded him of that first trelos he’d killed as a boy. The one who’d been so freakishly lucid and in command of himself.
“You’ve changed.”
“Really? That’s all you have to say to me?”
“Well, you did drop me on my head and rattle my brains, love.”
She stood up from her throne with fury in her eyes. That was a look that used to herald a thorough tongue-lashing for him, and not the kind that he looked forward to. The kind that left him hard up and pissed off.
“You broke your word to me, Urian.”
Wiping at the blood on his face, he gaped at her. “You mean when Stryker cut my throat?”
“I called for you and you didn’t come!”
“I came as soon as I could. And I was told you were dead.”
She ran at him and shoved him back. “How could you not know!”
“I wasn’t a Daimon anymore, Phoebe. I don’t have the same powers now that I had then.”
“You left me!” she shrieked, repeating her accusation.
Urian caught her against him. “I thought you were dead.”
“How could you not know? I was right here!”
“Again, Phee, Stryker cut my throat. I’ve been banned from Kalosis. I was protecting your sister like I promised you.”
“What else have you been doing, huh?”
He scowled. “What?”
She slapped him. “How long until you found your dragon bitch and crawled back into her bed?”
Anger tore through him at her accusation. “Oh my God, Phoebe! I haven’t gone near a woman in years! I’ve lived in hell because of you. Are you kidding?”
“Then why aren’t you glad to see me?”
“You dropped me on my head!” He enunciated each word slowly. “You attacked me. You slapped me! Why do you think?” Furious beyond endurance, he gestured at the door. “I came here to help you, even though I’m banned. I aligned myself to the Dark-Hunters whom you know I hate. How much more could I do to prove to you that I loved you?”
She grabbed him then and sank her fangs into his neck.
Urian hissed in pain. Damn, he’d forgotten how much that hurt, and now that he was no longer an Apollite or Daimon, he didn’t get the adrenaline or sexual surge from it. All he felt was the agony.
Apparently, so did Phoebe. Shrieking even louder than before, she lifted her head and shoved him back. “What did they do to you?”
“I told you. Stryker killed me because I helped you and Cassandra.”
That finally seemed to get through to her. She blinked at him. “Your father killed you?”
“Yeah. How many times do I have to tell you that? Why do you think I don’t live here anymore?” Grimacing, he wiped at the blood on his neck.
The fury returned to her eyes. “You murdered my grandparents, you bastard!”
He did do that. Urian couldn’t deny it. “You weren’t born then.”
“You think that makes it okay?”
“No, but—”
“You lied to me about so many things!” When she moved to slap him again, he caught her wrist.
“I’m not your whipping boy, Phoebe.”
“You used me!”
He shook his head. “I protected you and I loved you.”
She bared her fangs at him. “You’re incapable of love.”
Those words lashed his heart and left it bleeding. “You’re wrong about that.”
She snatched her hand from his grasp. “Had you loved me, you would have told me the truth. You wo
uldn’t have allowed me to care about a monster who destroyed my family. What? Did you laugh at us? Did you think it funny that you kept me like a toy while your father killed us off, one by one?”
“Oh my God, Phoebe! I lived in hell the entire time I was with you. I loved my father and because of you, I was forced to lie to him.”
She shook her head. “No. You chose to lie to him.” She punctuated her words by poking him in his chest. “You chose, Urian. You could have left him at any time and stayed with me, but no. You must have enjoyed the lies or you wouldn’t have gone crawling back to him constantly.”
“It’s not that simple. He was my father!”
“And yet you live with your enemy now? How quickly you got over it, huh?”
This was insane! She wasn’t making any sense.
“And you could have told me at any time you were still alive. Why didn’t you?”
“Look around!” She threw her arms out to indicate the walls around her. “Your father locked me in this hellhole and threw away the key.” She shoved him again. “I screamed and screamed for you. I kept thinking that surely you could hear me. That you would love me enough to come. You never did!”
Her shrieks tore through him. Not just the words, but the fear that he had heard her and had dismissed it as nightmare hauntings.
Because she was supposed to be dead. He’d heard so many voices in his head for so long. How was he to know that hers was real?
“What do want me to do, Phoebe? Apologize? I’m sorry! I never meant to hurt you.”
“But you did.” Tears welled in her eyes. “And I refuse your apology. There are some things that ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix!”
“Fine. I’ll take you to Cassandra, and—”
She cut his words off with a bitter laugh. “You don’t tell me what to do, and you don’t own me. Remember we’re Apollites. You carry my last name, Urian Peters.”
That was their custom. Since paternity was never an absolute given, but everyone knew who the mother was who birthed a child, it was Apollite tradition to trace lineage through the mother’s family and to assume the wife’s name upon marriage. As the Apollite saying went, “Mama’s baby, Daddy’s maybe.” He wasn’t sure where she was going with that.
Not until the thorns around the room began to thicken.
Stygian (The Dark-Hunter World Book 28) Page 74
