Stygian

  She was lying.

  He glanced over at the one person who would know. “Ash … if this is true, is there any way to get her back?”

  Acheron shook his head. “Not that I know. But I’m a god of fate. Not one of souls.” He looked to Styxx’s wife.

  She shook her head. “Wrath, warfare, misery, and the hunt. You need someone hunted down and killed with extreme prejudice, I’m your girl. But I was never in charge of souls, either. Sorry.”

  Falcyn sighed. “And I’m a war god, too. What a worthless lot, we are.”

  “Although …”

  They turned to stare at Acheron.

  Ash bit his lip as he considered something. “This is a long shot. I mean Hail Mary pass of all time.”

  “What?” Urian stepped away from his father.

  “I might know somebody who can help with this.… Xander.” Urian considered that. Xander was a Dark-Hunter currently stationed in New Orleans. Part sorcerer, he was one of the darkest powers. So much so that Artemis had only gotten a part of his soul.

  “Who is he?” Medea asked.

  Acheron sighed. “He deals with transmutations and is the only non-demon I know who can bargain with Jaden and Thorn. If anyone can help you, he’ll be your best bet.”

  Medea looked hopeful. “You think he’ll do it?”

  Ash let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know. He’s a tricky sonofabitch. But he does have a weakness.”

  “And that is?”

  Urian already knew before Ash spoke.

  “Brynna Addams and Kit Baughy. They can talk him into most things. Maybe, just maybe they can talk him into this.”

  And if they didn’t, Urian would drag him out and kick his ass.

  At least that was his thought until he turned and saw Xyn standing in the hallway that led to his bedroom where they’d been when Medea had arrived.

  The instant his gaze met hers, he knew she’d heard every word of this exchange.

  And the hurt in her eyes hit him like a sledgehammer to the groin. What the hell, Fates? Were you bitches bored? For the majority of his life, he’d been bitterly alone.

  In his life he’d only had two women he’d ever really loved.

  How could he choose between them?

  Torn and terrified, he headed toward her. She stepped back into the shadows.

  Urian rushed after her, praying she didn’t use her powers to vanish. If she ran, he wouldn’t be able to track her. “Xyn?”

  Thankfully, she stopped and turned to face him. “You should go to her.”

  He heard the tears in her voice. “Talk to me.”

  “You don’t want me to talk to you, Uri. I’m drakomai. In the mood I’m in, I might hurt you.” Her eyes flashed to their serpentine dragon form. “I know this isn’t your fault. That you didn’t know. But the dragon in me doesn’t care.” Her breathing turned ragged. “This is why we couldn’t be together when you were a Daimon. Because what lives in me is as dangerous as the demon in you. And it doesn’t share. You’re too close to me, and a dragon will kill what it loves before it shares it. We are not selfless creatures.” Her skin was turning into scales.

  Urian cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.

  The moment he did, she calmed and stopped turning. Tears swam in her eyes.

  “You’re my first love, Sarraxyn. My best friend.”

  “And Phoebe owns your heart. Don’t think I haven’t heard the others speak of it. How you’ve pined for her.”

  He winced. “You think I didn’t mourn you, too? Every bit as badly? Ask Davyn.” He looked back toward the throne room. “They don’t speak of it because they weren’t there when you vanished. Davyn was. My brothers were. It was the same when you were gone. I was a shell of pain for a century!”

  “Aye, and telling me you got over it in the arms of another—”

  “Isn’t what I’m saying. God, Xyn, please have mercy. If Phoebe is trelos, I’m to blame for it. Think of how I feel. I did this to her. I killed her.”

  “Then we will sort this out.”

  That shocked him. “You’ll help me?”

  “No. I’m going to kick your ass for getting into this mess.” She glared at him, then kissed his lips tenderly. “Why do I love you? You make me so crazy!”

  “S’a—”

  “Don’t!” She cut his words off sharply. “You don’t even say that until we have Phoebe. And this—” She indicated her body. “Off limits, buddy. You’re stewing in your juices. And you better be grateful I’m not adding fire to the kettle!”

  He was a sick bastard that he found her amusing. If anyone else talked to him like that, even Acheron, he’d have their ass on a platter. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her green eyes flashed emerald fire. “You better be damn glad you have the finest ass I’ve ever seen on any man.”

  “Are you sexually harassing me?”

  “And you better be glad I am ’cause that’s the closest thing to sex you’re getting until we get this matter settled.”

  Someone cleared their throat.

  Urian glanced over his shoulder to find his father standing there with a frown.

  “Well, I guess that answers my question as to whether you’re all right. The way you took off, I was worried. I can see there was no need.”

  Urian cringed. “This was not how I meant for you two to meet.” Clearing his throat, he stepped aside so that his father could see Sarraxyn, who was dressed in a pair of jeans and a tight black T-shirt. Her long red hair was a mass of thick curls that hung to her waist. “Xyn, my father, Styxx.”

  “It’s an honor, sir.” She held her hand out to him.

  “Likewise.” The amused glint in his father’s eyes darkened as he turned her hand over and examined the tattoo on the inside of her forearm just above her wrist. It was a dragonmark similar to the one Falcyn had, but different. “You’re a Were-Hunter?”

  “Please don’t insult me. Drakomai. Much older than they are.”

  “Are you related to Falcyn?”

  “We’re all related. My mother’s Lilith. My father’s Helios.”

  Urian’s eyes widened at a fact he never knew. “The Titan?”

  She nodded. “We don’t converse, though. We had a falling-out a long time ago. I wasn’t as fortunate as Urian when it came to my father. I was unfortunately stuck with just a penis.”

  Shocked, Urian felt his jaw drop, but thankfully his father laughed at her words.

  He clapped Urian on the arm. “I adore her. Trust me, your mother said something far more shocking to my father when she met him. And at least neither of you were naked when you met me.”

  “Pardon?” Urian scowled at that weirdness.

  “Ask your grandfather about the day we met.” And with that he wandered back to the others.

  “Not sure I want to.” He turned back toward Xyn. “Do I?”

  Xyn let out a long, tired sigh as she stared at those perfectly sculpted features that she’d always thought were identical to Stryker’s. However, now that she’d met Styxx, she realized Urian favored his real father a lot more. “Probably not.”

  Irritated, and torn between wanting to slap him and hug him, she reached up to run her hand through his hair. Then she yanked it. “Why does my relationship with you have to be so complicated?”

  “What can I say? The gods hate me.”

  “Indeed. A Daimon forced to work with the Dark-Hunters … if that’s not hatred, I don’t know what is.”

  Xyn had no idea how true those words would prove to be until a short time later when they knocked on the door of a peculiar dark purple shotgun shack in the heart of the French Quarter. Fanning herself with her hands, she blew out a deep breath to help alleviate the fierce, oppressive heat. “Isn’t it supposed to be winter here?”

  Urian laughed. “Welcome to one of New Orleans’s infamous heat waves. If you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.”

  “Huh?”

  He winked at her. “Meaning that’s how fast it c
hanges. Like a teenage Gemini chugging Red Bull on a party line.”

  That reference was completely lost on her.

  Ash shook his head before he knocked on the door.

  An instant later, it opened of its own accord. Most people might think that odd or creepy, but where they lived, it was just par for the course, normal.

  Ash stood back for Urian to go first. “Entrez.”

  Urian laughed at Acheron’s invitation. “Um, yeah, I don’t think so. First Daimon in the door usually gets staked. How you think I’ve lived this long? I’m not about to walk into a Dark-Hunter’s house uninvited.” He smacked Ash on the arm. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” He clicked his tongue at him.

  Ash appeared less than amused. “Don’t make me rip out your esophagus and beat you with it.”

  “That threat would carry more weight, Uncle, if we weren’t related now.” Urian grinned at him. “Après-vous.”

  Ash passed a smirk to Xyn. “Tell me something. Is or was he ever sweet and cuddly?”

  She shrugged. “Only after sex.”

  With a visible shudder, Ash led the way in. “Oh, so not going there.” Then under his breath, he said, “No wonder you two get along. Sheez!”

  Laughing, Urian pulled Xyn into his arms and put her in front of him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Equality, my lady dragon. You’re my meat shield because I know the Hunter can’t harm you.” He kissed the back of her head playfully as the door behind them slammed shut with an eerie thud.

  Xyn would be offended but for the fact that she knew Urian better. If anything were to happen, he’d be the first to trade his life for hers. “Ummhmm, Daimon. Keep talking. I’ll throw you out in daylight.”

  “Not a threat anymore. Uncle Ash made me dayproof.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, I did. Am regretting it now. Should have crispy-fried his ass before I released my brother from captivity and learned Urian’s mother was a goddess of equal power who really likes him.” As if he were guided there by something unseen, Ash headed down the narrow hallway that led the length of the house, to the far back left room on the first floor.

  Following along, Xyn ran her finger down the flocked dark burgundy wallpaper. She’d never seen any place decorated like this before.

  “The style’s called Victorian and brocade.” Urian pointed up at the black chandelier over their heads, which hung off the main staircase. “They had a morbid fascination with the occult, hence the jet crystals. You slept through a lot of changes.”

  Indeed, she had.

  Ash knocked three times on the door, which opened alone, just as the front one had.

  “It’s not dusk, Ancient Wonder.” The thickly accented voice came from the center of a four-poster bed that had thick burgundy draperies pulled closed around it. “Why are you here, Ash, and bringing friends no less?”

  Xyn could feel the man’s powers. Very few had the essence of his. These were more akin to Shadow’s than Acheron’s or Urian’s or even hers.

  Unnaturally born.

  His had been inherited after birth and finely honed by years of practice. Yet beneath that, she sensed that some of them had been stolen.

  Who was this man?

  “Sorry to disturb, Xander, but we need your expertise.”

  He let out a soft growl before he parted the curtains. Only he didn’t touch them. As with the doors. They flew back so that he could look at them while he lay in bed on his side. “I wasn’t a morning person when I was human. That hasn’t improved since my conversion to a Dark-Hunter.” He stretched languidly, then yawned.

  Suddenly, he froze. “You want me to do what?”

  Xyn glanced around. No one had spoken.

  “We’ll wait for you in the parlor.” Ash’s tone wasn’t a question. It was a definite “get dressed and move.”

  As they walked, Xyn took Urian’s hand and rubbed his chest, amazed at what an incredibly handsome creature he was. His features were so elegantly sculpted. And the way he wore his pale hair pulled back into a tight ponytail only accentuated their chiseled perfection. He was flawless in his beauty.

  And that loose-limbed way he walked …

  Total confidence and all predator. Even when he was unsure, he still exuded this aura of power that was delectable.

  The only time there was ever a chink in his feral armor was when they were alone, or whenever he was around family he was completely comfortable with.

  Which showed her what he thought of Acheron. Ash was one of the chosen few who knew the real Urian. And she wondered if he understood what a privilege it was for Urian to show his playful humor or to let down his guard.

  Her Daimon didn’t do that lightly. His life had been too harsh.

  Something that became immediately apparent when Xander entered the room. Urian let go of her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. He took one step in front of her and widened his stance to provide a shield for her. Not to be rude. It was an instinctive need he had to protect what he cared about.

  He gave her plenty of freedom to maneuver, but his stance made it clear that in order to get to her, someone would have to go through him first. He was also positioned to cover Ash’s vulnerable side, with his back to the wall and his gaze facing the window and door.

  Ever a predator. Ingrained to the very core of his soul.

  And the Dark-Hunter picked up on it, too. He was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt, his skin a rich, golden arrowwood. His head was shaved, but by the stubble lining his chiseled features, she could tell it must be raven black.

  Given his coloring, she would have assumed him to have dark eyes, yet his were definitely not.

  In fact, they were as spectacular as Acheron’s and Urian’s. The right one was a light, icy green, rimmed with a darker shade of moss, whereas his left eye was a kaleidoscope of amber and rust bisected by shades of yellow and green. Unnerving in their beauty, those eyes seemed ageless and betrayed a deep-seated tragic past that tugged at her heart.

  Like Urian, he was a creature of secrets and power, and it bled from every pore of his body.

  “So,” Xander said slowly. “What’s up, Daimon-not-Daimon and Dark-Hunter-not-Dark-Hunter, and lady dragon so beautiful I won’t even categorize you because that would be a disservice to one of your grace.”

  Urian cleared his throat. “Her name is Xyn, and eyes to me if you want to keep them.”

  “No fear. I only have eyes for one lady, and I would never shame her. That being said, even though I adore my house and have no personal interest in any other, it doesn’t mean that I can’t appreciate that which someone else calls home.”

  Xyn had to give it to the man, he was slick and charming. She could only imagine how many women had lost themselves to those eyes and that honeyed tongue.

  And Urian slid a look to her that said he suspected she might not be immune to it.

  She blinked innocently. “You need to be taking notes, buddy.” Smiling, she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his waist and squeeze him tight. While she normally didn’t play into anyone’s insecurities, she knew that it wasn’t in Urian’s nature to be like that. Nor was he jealous.

  However, Xanthia’s infidelity had left a vicious scar on his soul, and the last thing she wanted was to open that wound and make it bleed.

  Urian placed a gentle hand over hers. “We have a little situation. How much do you know about soul exchanges?”

  He let out a dark laugh. “Second only to Jaden. Why?”

  Urian paused as he considered where to begin. This was so complicated. He didn’t even know how to start. “My wife … whom I thought was dead, has apparently gone trelos. Is there any way to pull the souls out of her and restore her?”

  Actually, that wasn’t as complicated as he’d thought.

  Xander narrowed his eyes on Ash. “You want me to help a Daimon?”

  “Yeah. Believe it or not.”

  “That’s a
tough one.” He flicked his fingers open. Fire lit the tips as he held his left hand out. A book flew from the shelves to land on the desk in front of him. It opened itself and turned to a page. The fire left his fingers to swirl around the blank pages for several heartbeats but didn’t burn them. Instead, the fire revealed the words as if someone or something unseen were writing.

  Urian stepped closer to read over his shoulder. However, he’d never seen anything like that alphabet. It wasn’t alchemy or any of the ancient languages he knew.

  Xander made all kinds of strange noises. “You people don’t believe in making things easy, do you?”

  “Not really. We could try Psyche, but last I rang her bell, she came with a two-hundred-pound tumor.”

  Xander scowled at Acheron. “Pardon?”

  “Eros. She came with Eros.”

  He shook his head. “This is useless.” He threw his hand out and the book skittered back to the shelf. The flames on his fingers went out. “Simple answer is, I don’t know. Where is she?”

  “In Kalosis.”

  Xander let out a deep guffaw. Until he realized they weren’t joking. “Wait … you’re asking a Dark-Hunter to descend into Daimon Central to save a trelos Daimon that even Daimons fear? Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Urian gestured to Xyn. “We’ve got a dragon.”

  “And I don’t have a head injury. Or a fatal dose of stupidity. Nor am I suicidal.”

  “What if I said pretty please?”

  “Nice, Daimon. Real nice. You’re an effing comedian. And while that might get you a guest appearance on someone’s late show, it’s not going to get me down your daddy’s bolt-hole.”

  “But you will do it for me.”

  Xander let out a fierce growl at Acheron. “I’m reassessing this favor you think I owe you.”

  “Don’t think. I know. And remember that Urian is my nephew. I would be terribly put out if anything happened to him.”

  Xander raked a slow hand over his face. “On one condition.”

  “That is?” Ash cocked his hip as he waited.

  He counted them off on his fingers. “I want Simi, with a fresh bottle of barbecue sauce.”

  “I can do that. I’d planned to send her with you anyway to keep a certain goddess from eating your head for breaching her portal.”