Night Pleasures

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  "Didn't I tell you not to touch the Lamborghini?" Hunter groused an instant before he cut the wheel and sent the vampire flying through the air.

  "And they told me you guys couldn't fly," Hunter said, straightening out the car and heading for the street. "I guess Acheron needs to update the handbook."

  Amanda realized there were two cars after them.

  "Oh, my God," she breathed, placing her hand on his thick, masculine wrist to allow him as much mobility as she could while he shifted gears. This was getting ugly and the last thing she wanted was to interfere with whatever he had to do to get her safely out of this.

  "Hold tight," Hunter said as he turned the radio on, and accelerated.

  Lynyrd Skynyrd's "That Smell" blared as they whipped out of the parking lot, into traffic.

  Her entire body rigid, Amanda started praying the Rosary even though she wasn't Catholic.

  "Lights!" Amanda shouted as she realized he was driving in total darkness and his windows were tinted far past the legal limit. "Lights would be very good right now!"

  "Since they hurt my eyes to the point I can barely see, no they wouldn't. Trust me."

  "Trust you, my left foot," she snapped, using her free hand to hold on to the seat belt like a lifeline. "I'm not immortal over here."

  He laughed at that. "Yeah, well, in a bad enough car wreck, neither am I."

  Amanda gaped. "I really hate your sense of humor."

  His smile widened.

  They went speeding through the crowded New Orleans streets, weaving in and out of lanes until she thought she'd be sick with fear. Not to mention a couple of times when she was sure her hand would be wrenched off by his movements.

  Swallowing, she did her best to keep her nausea at bay while she braced herself against the dash.

  A huge black Chevy pulled up beside them and tried to run them into a tractor-trailer. Grinding her teeth, Amanda bit back a scream.

  "Don't panic," Hunter said over the music as he cut the wheel to move underneath the semi. He gunned the engine. "I've done this a lot."

  Amanda couldn't breathe as they entered another lane where a red Firebird waited to try and ram them. The Dark-Hunter narrowly missed a parked car.

  Amanda's panic was so severe all she could do was gape. And pray. She did lots and lots of praying.

  By the time they reached the interstate, Amanda had seen her entire boring life flash before her eyes. And she didn't like what she saw.

  It was way too brief. There were a lot of things she wanted to do before she died--including getting her hands on Tabitha and beating the snot out of her.

  Suddenly, the black Chevy was back, trying to run them off the road. Hunter hit the brakes and jerked his car over. They skidded sideways.

  Her stomach lurched.

  "You know," Hunter said calmly. "I really hate Romans, but I have to say their descendants make one fine automobile."

  He shifted and accelerated again, flying past the Chevy. They jumped the median, drove across oncoming traffic, and went down an exit so fast that all she could see was a flashing blur of lights.

  The sounds of horns and screaming brakes filled her ears. It was followed by grinding metal and a loud pop and crunch as the Firebird full of Daimons hit the black Chevy. The Firebird drove the other car of Daimons into the retaining wall where it flipped over the traffic.

  Amanda still couldn't breathe as the Daimons' Chevy came to rest beside the highway without striking another car.

  Hunter actually whooped as he cut the wheel to turn the Lamborghini around in the street to face the opposite direction. He slammed on the brakes and took a look at the chaos they had left in their wake.

  Her entire body shaking, Amanda gaped.

  Hunter turned the radio off and smiled triumphantly. "And not a single mark on the Lamborghini. Ha! Eat steel, you soul-sucking bastards."

  Downshifting, he stomped the gas, turned a tight, squealing circle in the street, and headed back toward the Quarter.

  Amanda sat in stunned disbelief as she did her best to take long, deep, soothing breaths. "You actually enjoyed that, didn't you?"

  "Oh, hell yes. Did you see the look on their faces?" He laughed. "Man, I love this car."

  She looked up at the sky, and implored divine aid. "Dear God, please separate me from this maniac before I die of fright."

  "Oh, c'mon," he said, his voice teasing. "Don't tell me that didn't get your blood pumping."

  "Yes, yes, it did. In fact, my blood is pumping so fast that I'm not really sure why my heart hasn't exploded." She stared at him. "You are one crazy human being."

  The laughter died instantly. "I used to be, anyway."

  She swallowed at the hollowness of his voice. Without meaning to, she must have struck a nerve.

  Their mood subdued, Amanda gave him directions to Grace's bungalow off St. Charles.

  A few minutes later, they pulled into the driveway behind Julian Alexander's black Range Rover. The back fender was slightly crushed in from his latest collision with a lamppost.

  Poor Julian, he really was a menace on the road. She slid a sideways glance to the Dark-Hunter. Then again, comparatively speaking, Julian wasn't so bad after all. At least he'd never given her a heart attack.

  Hunter helped her out of his side of the car, then led the way to the door. The old-fashioned bungalow was completely lit up, and through the sheer curtains over the windows, Amanda could see Grace sitting in an armchair in the living room.

  The petite brunette had her long hair in a ponytail, and her stomach was twice as round as it had been the last time Amanda had seen her. Even though the baby wasn't due for another nine weeks, poor Grace looked as if she could give birth at any moment.

  Grace was laughing at something, but there was no sign of Julian or their guests.

  Amanda paused to brush her hair with her hand, straighten her dirty clothes, and button her coat over the bloodstains. "Grace said they have company, so I think we should try and be a little inconspicuous, okay?"

  He nodded as she rang the bell.

  After a brief wait, the door opened to show Julian Alexander in the foyer. At six three, Julian was every bit as striking as Hunter. He had hair the same shade of blond and the bluest eyes Amanda had ever seen. His face was perfectly sculpted, but considering that he was the son of the Greek goddess Aphrodite, it was to be expected.

  The welcoming smile on Julian's face faded as he caught sight of Hunter.

  His jaw went slack.

  Amanda turned to see a very similar reaction from Hunter, who stood stock-still.

  "Julian of Macedon?" Hunter asked in disbelief.

  "Kyrian of Thrace?"

  Before she could move, the two men grabbed each other like long-lost brothers. Her arm was snatched upward as Kyrian hugged him.

  "Oh gods!" Julian gasped. "Is it really you?"

  "I can't believe it," Hunter said as he pulled back and ran a shocked look up and down Julian's body. "I thought you were dead."

  "Me?" Julian asked. "What about you? I heard the Romans executed you. Dear Zeus, how can you be here?" Julian glanced down and saw the handcuffs. His frown deepened. "What the...?"

  "That's why we're here," Amanda said. "We got latched together, and I was hoping you could separate us."

  "They were made by your stepfather," Hunter added. "Any chance you have a key lying around?"

  Julian laughed. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. At least this time she's not an Amazon princess with an irate mother demanding parts of your body be removed." Julian shook his head like a father scolding a son. "Two thousand years later, and you're still getting into unbelievable messes."

  Hunter gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Some things never change. Care to indebt me to you again?"

  Julian cocked his head. "Last time I counted, I was two favors down to you."

  "Oh yeah, I forgot about Prymaria."

  By the expression on Julian's face, Amanda could tell he hadn't and she was dying to know w

hat had happened. But there would be time for that later.

  First, she wanted her arm free. She jingled the chain, hinting.

  Julian stepped back and let them enter his house. "You're actually in luck," he said as he led them into the living room.

  Grace hadn't moved from her chair where she now held Vanessa on her lap while Julian's gorgeous, blond mother sat on the sofa teasing Niklos with a stuffed doll. A tall, dark-haired man sat beside Aphrodite, holding Niklos in his arms and laughing at the two of them.

  The Dark-Hunter sucked his breath in sharply at the quaint family scene. Roughly, he pushed Amanda away from him an instant before Aphrodite looked up and cursed.

  Before Amanda could process what was going on, Aphrodite threw her arm out and what appeared to be a bolt of lightning came out of her hand and struck Hunter. The blast knocked him off his feet and threw him to the floor, pulling her along with him.

  Amanda landed on top of his chest. She saw the burn on his shoulder and smelled the smoldering leather and skin.

  She knew his wound had to be excruciating, but he didn't even react to it. Instead, Hunter quickly removed his sunglasses, pushed her off his chest, and tried to get her as far away from him as he could.

  Rising to his feet, he placed himself between her and Aphrodite.

  "How dare you!" Aphrodite shrieked while fury contorted her beautiful face. Her eyes narrowed, she left the couch and stalked toward Hunter like a deadly beast of prey. "You know you are not to be in our presence."

  Julian grabbed Aphrodite before she could reach them. "Mother, stop! What are you doing?"

  She glared at Julian. "You dare bring a Dark-Hunter before me? You know it is forbidden!"

  Frowning, Julian turned to look at Hunter. Disbelief was etched on his face.

  Hunter glanced at Amanda over his shoulder. "You're about to be free, little one," he whispered.

  Aphrodite raised her hand.

  Terrified, Amanda realized Aphrodite meant to kill him. No! The word caught in her throat while her heart raced in panic.

  Julian caught his mother's wrist before she could blast Hunter again.

  "No, Mom," Julian snapped. "Dark-Hunter or not, he happens to be the only man who ever stood guard at my back while everyone else prayed for my death. You kill him, and I will never forgive you for it."

  Aphrodite's face turned to stone.

  Julian let go of her hand. "I have never, in my entire life, asked you for anything. But I'm asking you now, as your son, help him. Please."

  Aphrodite looked from Julian to Hunter. The indecision in her eyes was tangible.

  "Hephaestus?" Julian asked the man on the couch. "Will you free them?"

  "It is forbidden," he said gruffly, "and you know it. Dark-Hunters are soulless and beyond us."

  "It's all right, Julian," Hunter said quietly. "Just ask her not to let the blast go through me and hit the woman."

  It was only then Aphrodite noticed Amanda. Her gaze fell to the cuffs.

  "Mom?" Julian asked again.

  Aphrodite snapped her fingers and the handcuffs disappeared.

  "Thank you," Julian said.

  "I did it only to help the human female," Aphrodite said grimly before returning to the sofa. "The Dark-Hunter is on its own."

  Hunter said a quiet thanks to Julian. Then, he turned and started for the door.

  "Kyrian, wait," Julian said, stopping him. "You can't go out there hurt."

  The Dark-Hunter's face was stoic. "You know the Code, adelfos. I walk alone."

  "Not tonight, you don't."

  "If he stays," Aphrodite said, "we have to leave."

  Julian looked back at his mother and nodded. "I know, Mom. Thanks again for helping him. I'll see you later."

  Aphrodite vanished in a flash of light. Hephaestus set Niklos down, then evaporated, too.

  "Julian?" Grace called from her chair. "Is it safe to let go of Vanessa now?"

  "Yes," he said.

  Amanda watched the sad look on Hunter's face as the twins came running toward their father.

  Niklos took a happy detour to her, jabbering as he held his arms out. Amanda picked him up and cuddled him close before kissing the top of his soft, blond curls.

  Bouncing in her arms, he laughed and hugged her.

  Vanessa made straight for Hunter in true Vanessa form. The little darling knew no strangers. She handed him the half-eaten cookie in her hand. "Cook-ie?" she asked in her broken, baby speech.

  Kneeling before her, Hunter smiled tenderly as he took it from her outstretched hand. He brushed a gentle palm over the toddler's dark hair.

  "Thank you, sweeting," he said softly before handing the cookie back to her. "But I'm not hungry."

  Vanessa squealed and threw herself into his arms.

  If Amanda lived an eternity, she would never forget the desperate, aching look on Hunter's face as he held Vanessa to his chest. It was one of such longing. Of pain. The look of a man who knew he held something precious in his arms that he never wanted to let go of.

  He closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against the top of Vanessa's head as he balled his fist against her back and held her tight. "Gods, Julian, you always made such beautiful babies."

  Julian didn't say anything as Grace came forward. But Amanda saw the anguish in Julian's eyes while he watched his friend and his daughter.

  The two of them locked gazes.

  Something passed between them, some shared nightmare Amanda knew nothing about.

  Julian took Grace's hand. "Grace, this is my friend Kyrian of Thrace. Kyrian, this is my wife."

  Like a graceful black panther coming out of its deadly crouch, Hunter rose to his feet with Vanessa cradled gently in his arms. "I'm honored to meet you, Grace."

  "Thank you," Grace said. "I have to say the same about you. Julian's talked about you so much that I feel like I know you."

  Hunter narrowed his eyes on Julian. "Considering how often he censured my behavior, I shudder to think what he's told you about me."

  Grace laughed. "Nothing too bad. Is it true you once incited an entire bordello into--"

  "Julian!" Hunter snapped. "I can't believe you told her that."

  Completely unabashed, Julian shrugged Hunter's irritability off. "Ingenuity under pressure was always your forte."

  Grace gasped, then put her hand against her distended stomach. Julian reached out and took her arm, watching her worriedly.

  Taking deep breaths, Grace rubbed her stomach and offered them a tentative smile. "Sorry, the baby kicks like a mule."

  Hunter stared at Grace's belly, and a strange light came into his eyes. For an instant, Amanda could swear they glowed.

  "It's another boy," he said quietly, his voice distant.

  "How did you know?" Grace asked in surprise as she continued to run her hand over her stomach. "I just found out yesterday."

  "He can feel the baby's soul," Julian said quietly. "It's one of the protective powers of a Dark-Hunter."

  Hunter looked to Julian. "This one is going to be strong-willed. He's loving and giving, but completely reckless."

  "Reminds me of someone else I once knew," Julian said.

  The words seemed to haunt Hunter.

  "C'mon," Julian said, taking Vanessa from Hunter and setting her down even though she squealed in protest. "I need to get you upstairs and tend that wound."

  Amanda stood in the hallway, unsure of what she should do. She had a million questions she wanted answered, and if not for Hunter's wound, she'd be on her way upstairs right now asking them all. But Julian was right. That vicious-looking wound needed tending.

  With a wistful glance to the stairs, she turned back to Grace. "You're amazingly calm given all this chaos. Gods poofing out, people coming in wearing bloody clothes, and getting blasted in your foyer. I would think by now you'd be freaking out, especially given your condition."

  Grace laughed as she herded the crying Vanessa back into the living room. "Well, over the last few years, I've gotten rather used to Greek gods poofing in and out. As well as other things I don't want to think about. Being married to Julian has definitely been an education in staying calm."

  Amanda laughed halfheartedly as she glanced toward the stairs and again wondered about her enigmatic Dark-Hunter. "Is Hunter--or Kyrian--a god, too?"

  "I don't know. From the things Julian has said, I always assumed Kyrian was a man, but I'm as much in the dark as you are."

  As Grace sat down, Amanda heard the men talking through the baby monitor.

  Grace reached to turn it off.

  "Please, wait."

  Amanda took a seat and played with Niklos while she listened to the men above.

  *

  "Damn, Kyrian," Julian said as soon as Kyrian handed him his shirt. "You've got more scars on you than my father had."

  Kyrian let out a deep breath while he gently probed the burn on his shoulder from Aphrodite's blast.

  The two of them were alone in the twins' nursery at the end of the upstairs hallway. Kyrian squinted against the bright yellow teddy-bear wallpaper that hurt his light-sensitive eyes and reached for his sunglasses.

  Julian must have remembered his ancient Greek mythology because he turned out the overhead lights and turned on the small nursery lamp that bathed the room in a soothing dull glow.

  Weak from his pain, Kyrian noticed that his reflection in the mirror was only barely there. An inability to cast reflections was one of the camouflage benefits bestowed on all Dark-Hunters. The only way for them to have a reflection was to force it from within their own mind. Something that was hard to do when they were wounded or excessively tired.

  He stepped back from the white-painted dresser and met Julian's curious gaze. "Two thousand years of combat tend to take a toll on the body."

  "You always had more balls than brains."

  An eerie chill went up Kyrian's spine at those familiar words. He couldn't count the times Julian had said that to him in Classical Greek.

  How he had missed his friend and mentor over the centuries. Julian had been the only man he'd ever listened to. One of the few men he'd actually respected.

  Kyrian rubbed his arm. "I know, but the funny thing is I can always hear your voice in my head begging me for patience." He deepened his tone and adopted Julian's rougher-edged Spartan accent. "'Damn, Kyrian, can't you ever think before you react?'"

  Julian fell silent.

  Kyrian knew what was going through Julian's mind. The same bittersweet memories that tugged at him at night whenever he paused long enough to dwell on the past.

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